Hello love, I love your writings and wanted to ask if I can request something. Like being the best friend of Finn and a Peaky Blinder. The family of the reader is a rival gang but were good friends of the Shelbys. The family decided to betray them and reader stands in between. Thank you in advance. Have a great day.
As Finn Shelby covered my mouth with his hand, I heard another gunshot ringing through the air in the neighborhood. This one was just next door. The Finnegans. They were in on it, too.
Finn shushed me again. He kept us tucked in a closet in my family’s home. His gun was cocked and ready in his hand. He moved his hand from my mouth to the closet door. It creaked open, revealing no one there—yet. Both of us listened carefully to the cries outside the Finnegan home. Outside the window, Arthur dragged out Jacob. He barely kicked, but he was still alive. His left shoulder bled.
“You have to keep packing,” Finn pushed me forward. I returned to my barely-packed suitcase. Throwing essentials only inside. My mother’s jewelry, my father’s wallet, and pictures. An older picture slipped off the top of the pile, falling to the floor. Finn picked it up, seeing us as children, making an angry noise.
“Pictures? Why the hell are you packing pictures?! My brothers are right outside!” He yelled at me.
“They’re important! What if I forget what you look like?”
“That’s what you’re worried about? Stupid—
Another gunshot rang through the air. Making both of us flinch, Finn took a step back, peeking through the window again. His eyes widened. I stepped towards the window. Finn pushed me back to the suitcase.
“You don’t need to see that. Keep going,” Finn said. I did as he told me. If it weren’t for him, I would be just as dead as Jacob Finnegan outside the window.
My family and a few others lost faith in the Peaky Blinders. A lot of money was lost to America when they entered a recession so great—mothers sold their children to anyone who could shell out the money. Jacob Finnegan thought of a dangerous idea. Selling information to rival gangs, tipping off where resources were hidden, but worst of all, defying Thomas Shelby in working with the Italians. Jacob was smart enough to come up with the idea, and my father was stupid enough to execute it.
Finn watched my father die early this morning. He was shot dead. His body falling into a boat, taking him where no one would find him. Finn ran straight here after that.
“Finn, I can’t find it.” I panicked, looking for a set of keys.
“They have to be in your father’s room, then.” Finn closed up the suitcase as I rushed into his room. A chill travelled down my spine as I saw a quick flash of light and then a bang from the other house next door. I gasped, holding in my fear. My sister. Her children. I was caught in between it all. Finn’s voice brought me back to task.
“Hurry up!” Finn picked up the set of keys on top of a drawer. He threw the suitcase at me, yelling to go down the stairs. My feet flew. My throat tightened as I heard banging on my family’s door. I rushed to the back of the house.
“Run,” Finn said, tossing the keys at me. “Don’t you ever come back here. Do you understand?”
I nodded. I bit my lip as I secured the cap on his head like I always did. My fingers careful enough to not graze the hidden razor underneath. Finn’s wasn’t as secure as his brothers. The razor was loose on the left side.
“Thank you,” I swallowed. There wasn’t enough time to cry.
“What are best friends for?” Finn gave me a wink. Loud banging continued at the front door. I peeked to see Finn had secured every single lock. His brothers were going to have to kick it in.
Hope filled my gut as I rushed to the back door. All I needed to do was get to the car. If I got to the car, I could drive far away enough. I had family in the country. They would let me stay until I figured something out. I knew I could. Once everything settled down, I could write to Finn, give him a proper thank you.
I opened the backdoor, seeing the car in my line of sight. I took three steps before Arthur Shelby grabbed me. He pulled me back by my collar. I struggled against him. My hands clawed at his arm. He hit the back of my head hard enough to get me to stop.
“Stop it!” Finn shouted. He ran out to the back where we were. His gun drawn. “Let go of her!”
Arthur laughed in his face. “You’re going to shoot me? Your own brother?”
Finn adjusted his grip on the pistol. “She had nothing to do with it! Let her go!”
“She’s a traitor!” Arthur yelled back. “Just like the rest of them. Now, shoot her.” Arthur’s words sent a chill down my back. I tried facing Finn, but all I could hear was his voice.
“What? No! She’s—
“Are you a real Peaky fucking Blinder, or aren’t you?”
“Shoot her!” The silence is what bothered me the most. I heard no response. No fighting words. Arthur pushed me to the ground. Before I could pick myself back up, another gun shot rang in the air. God was so cruel to Finn. After he had done it, he picked up the same picture of us as children from my sweater pocket. It had a bullet hole where my head was.
5 notes · View notes
Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.
Finn: Wait, three?
Arthur: OH MY GOD JOHN FELL OFF!!!
24 notes · View notes
Tommy: Hah! 69! You know what that means?
Arthur: That you're a child.
John: HOW'D YOU GUESS MY IQ!?
16 notes · View notes
Chapter 19: In Sickness and in Health (The Gangster’s Daughter)
Description: Life for Tommy Shelby was pretty ordinary; all he ever had to worry about were his family, their business and the Blinders. Nothing more, nothing less. Well, that was until his ‘daughter’, a twelve-year-old girl called Evelyn Westmore, was thrown into his life, dredging up feelings and things from the past he’d done very well to forget.
Also available on AO3:
Warnings: Original Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Explicit Language, Gangsters, Period Typical Attitudes, Parent Tommy Shelby, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent.
The next morning was when Evie finally learned the definition of a hangover. A real hangover. Like, Arthur after a night at the Garrison hangover.
She had barely been conscious a minute before she realised her head was pounding. It was as if someone was driving a hammer into her skull over and over again.
She didn’t dare open her eyes, knowing instantly the pain was going to be too much.
“Fuck,” she whined, pushing her face into her pillow, wondering if by some miracle she could go back to sleep. Of course, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. Not when she also currently felt like she was suffering from the worst case of sea sickness known to human kind. It made her stomach churn uneasily, and she could feel her whole body shaking.
Evie groaned, weakly turning over to try and sit up in bed. She knew for a fact that her hair was most likely a hell of mess, and the fact her breath felt like acid left her heavily confused.
She honestly had no idea what the hell had happened to her, or why the hell she felt the way she did. It was as if someone had scrubbed her mind so clean it was raw. There was a huge chunk of time missing from her mind from the night before.
What the hell happened?
With a sigh, she peeled back the covers and began to brave her way down to the kitchen below.
Tommy, needless to say, was waiting in the main room, a paper spread out in front of him and a cup of tea in hand. John was also in the kitchen, Arthur beside him as they scoffed their way through the food in front of them - courtesy of Polly.
The woman truly was an angel.
Her father glanced up as he heard Evie enter, only to start laughing at her miserable face. He was enjoying this; she could tell. If she’d had any strength she’d probably have tried to wipe that smile off his face. But she didn’t. She merely shuffled in, sat in the nearest chair and let out a small moan at the fresh smell of food in the air.
“Why do I have bulls stamping on my brain?”
“Because you thought it was a smart idea to challenge Johnny boy here, to a pissing contest,” Tommy remarked calmly, hiding his grin behind his paper. It was clear from his windswept hair and the smell of soot about him he’d been up sometime, already venturing out into the city. How he got the resilience, Evie could never explain.
“Which I won, by the way,” John protested, looking unfairly healthy as he helped himself to his breakfast. The smell alone was enough to make Evie want to empty her stomach everywhere.
“But she gave an admirable attempt,” Arthur heckled. “Worthy of the Shelby name I’d say. Almost drank a bottle of her own before she keeled over. Not bad for a slip of a thing.”
Evie groaned, dropping her face down into her hands. “I hate you all.”
“So you don’t want some hot coffee then?” Polly chuckled, placing the cup down in front of her. “Drink that. It’ll help.”
Evie took her at her word, all but downing the steaming drink, praying it helped in some way. “Why do you all drink so much if this how you feel afterwards?”
“You learn your limits,” her father chided. “You build up an immunity too.”
“Clearly I didn’t inherit your Shelby skill.”
“No, but you have determination,” Tommy chuckled. “Clearly you’ve had good teachers.”
“Or bad influences,” Polly countered, turning to glare at her nephews.
“One day, she’ll look back on this and laugh.”
“Not anytime soon, by the looks of her.”
Evie groaned all over again. “I’m right here. You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not - actually, better yet, why doesn’t everyone whisper?”
Evie was half way out of her seat and ready to murder Arthur in a heartbeat. It was only Polly’s warning glare that stopped her. That, and the sudden nausea caused by moving so fast.
“Sit down,” her aunt scoffed, placing a plain piece of buttered toast in front of her. “Eat that and then go back to bed. You’ll feel better. I promise. This lot will be gone soon.”
“Sooner the better,” Evie grumbled half heartedly, even though she didn’t mean it. Still, John clearly got the hint and took that as his cue to excuse himself from the meal.
“Right,” John grinned, donning his cap. “I’m off to the garage. Be back in a bit, yeah? Meeting Lizzie so she can cook.”
The others nodded, murmuring various acknowledgements as he slipped out into the street.
“I have business too,” Arthur grinned, rising from his seat and patting Evie’s shoulder as he did so. “Just sleep it off, ey? And don’t drink anything Polly gives you. You’d rather die on your own terms than have one of her miracle cures.”
Arthur sniggered, leaping out of the doorway as Polly rose to slap the smile off of his face. Still, Evie took his word for it. She loved her aunt but she had a suspicion Arthur knew what he was on about. Especially judging by the slightly queazy look on her father’s face.
“The bloody cheek.”
“Leave him, Pol,” Tommy soothed. “He isn’t worth it."
“I wish I’d let Evie rip his throat out now.”
“Oh, there’s still time. Maybe later.”
Evie chuckled under breath. She’d hold him to that. For now, though, she was content to simply make her way through the plate of buttered toast and endless mugs of coffee Polly put before her. “Thank you,” she beamed, watching as Polly kissed her head before helping herself to her own breakfast.
That was how they stayed for the next half hour or so. Once they’d finished, Evie took the plates and went to wash up as a gesture of her gratitude. It also left her father and Polly alone, both of whom had been shooting odd looks at one another to the point where Evie almost wanted to call them out on it.
If they had something to say, they should just say it… unless they didn’t want her to hear?
So, she gave them space, washing dishes and listening to their soft voices echoing through the open doorway.
Evie didn’t need to hear more than the words ‘talk’ and ‘Lizzie’ to know what this was about. It had only been days since John had told her he was thinking of asking Lizzie to marry him. Evie still didn’t know how she felt about it, even though she wanted John happy and she liked Lizzie well enough. However, by the sounds of it, she didn’t have to worry about it any longer.
“Fuck,” Pol muttered. “You gonna tell him? Or am I?”
“Tell him what?” Evie asked slowly.
She couldn’t help it any longer. Her curiosity was greater than her fear of being scolded for eavesdropping. Besides, it was hardly like this conversation was that private. Else, they’d have taken it to the offices on the other side of the shop floor if they hadn’t want to be overheard.
She simply stepped into the doorway and waited for an answer.
Tommy sighed. He blew out a thin stream of smoke and looked at Pol. The look between them was enough for them to understand one another.
Polly blinked. “That leopards never change their spots.”
Just like that, Evie felt even sicker - something she hadn’t thought possible. It didn’t take a genius to work out what Polly was referring to. Part of her hoped she was wrong though, that her father and aunt hadn’t conspired to break John’s heart.
She watched her father go and turned back towards the stairs. All she wanted now was to crawl into bed and sleep the remainder of the headache away. “Fuck.”
It appeared she wasn’t the only one who would be suffering that day.
Thankfully, after a hot bath, plenty of coffee and a long sleep, Evie felt almost as good as new. She didn’t even mind the fact her father decided to wake her the following morning, ripping open the curtains and letting the morning sunshine burst into the room.
“Rise and shine, Evelyn.”
Evie groaned, pulling the pillow over her head in a vain attempt to block his voice out. “What’s the smile for?”
“Get dressed and you’ll find out.”
As if the shock of seeing her father in her room wasn’t enough to peak her interest, his proposition definitely did the trick. Evie was alert instantly. She couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d woken her up, let alone in such an odd mood.
She tried not to laugh as he tugged the covers off of her, doing his best as she clung on for dear life. Playful Tommy was rare. She half expected a cold bucket of water over the head or for him to be banging pans together instead.
“Dad,” Evie whined, surrendering and sitting upright. “What the hell is going on?”
“As I say, get dressed and come downstairs. We’ve got somewhere to be,” her father explained, gesturing to the dresser in the corner of the room.
To her utter surprise, a dress was already laid out and waiting for her - a beautiful sky blue dress, but one she’d never seen before.
Had he bought it for her?
“Polly picked it our for you so don’t keep her waiting,” he continued, as if sensing her questions. However, he gave her no more opportunities to ask them as he turned and left her to get ready for the absurd day ahead of them.
Evie couldn’t even begin to process it all. What had just happened? Was she still dreaming?
She managed to pry herself from her bed and wander over towards the dress. A single touch of the silky fabric was enough to prove this wasn’t a dream. This was very very real… and very expensive.
“Damn it, Pol,” she sniggered, reminding herself to talk to her aunt about wasting money on her like this. Whilst she absolutely adored the garment in front of her, she also knew they couldn’t really afford it.
Nevertheless, she’d learned a long time ago when to pick a battle with the Shelby family and when to simply go along with their wishes. This was definitely one of those times to go with the latter option. So, she stripped herself of her nightclothes and began to get ready for the day, washing away the sleep from her eyes in the washbasin and tidying her hair as best she could.
A few minutes more and she was ready. One final look in the mirror confirmed as much.
She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her coat, hurrying downstairs as fast as she was able. If her father was as excited as he’d seemed about today then she knew better than to keep him waiting. Even if she was nervous about what lay ahead, Evie couldn’t help but be a little excited too.
However, as she hurried into the parlour, she was surprised to see it empty.
Her father was no where to be seen.
“What the hell?” she whispered.
That was when the door opened. That was when the last two people she’d expected to come strolling through together, did just that, grinning ear to ear.
“Polly what on earth is going o-” Evie began. She stopped, however, the moment she laid eyes on the woman next to her. “Ada?”
Like that, she was upon her, hurling herself at her aunt in disbelief. The heavily pregnant woman didn’t mind though, laughing as she cradled her back, peppering kisses to her cheeks.
“Oh my god. I’m glad to see you.”
“I missed you too,” Ada whispered. “It’s been too long.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Tommy invited her,” Polly smirked, visibly touched by the scene. “Family should be together on days like this one. We have a one day truce, thank god. I love a good wedding.”
She wasn’t the only one confused. Ada looked as bewildered as she felt. However, Evie finally took a moment to properly examine the moment. It was then she realised they were all dressed impeccably, with fine dresses and coats. Polly even had a hat on, something she saved for church or special occasions. How Evie had missed it was beyond her. Clearly, she was getting rusty.
“I thought it was obvious,” Polly chuckled. “So, shall we go? Otherwise we’ll miss the bloody thing… I never thought I’d see the day John Shelby re-married. To a Lee of all things.”
This was John’s wedding?
To a Lee girl?
Evie blinked. She froze and stared at the woman in disbelief. “You’re fucking joking? Right?”
Both Ada and Polly shook their heads. “It was your father’s idea,” Polly explained, adjusting her hat in the mirror before opening the door and ushering them towards the car. “It was a deal proposed by the Lees. Tommy agreed on John’s behalf. Kill two birds with one stone.”
Evie had a suspicion someone would be killed if that really was the case. “Does John know?”
“They’ll have told him by now.”
“Fuck. Now I see why they all left together.”
It took an army to make a Shelby do something they didn’t want to do. John especially. Evie felt bad at the thought. What if he didn’t want this? Why was her family forcing him into this? Was it too late to stop it?
Then again, her father loved his family more than life itself. He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t have John’s approval or hadn’t meticulously thought this whole thing out. Had he even met the bride to be?
Evie sighed. Why were Shelby weddings always so complicated? At least this one wasn’t in secret, a fact she was grateful for as she turned to her aunt and took her hand. The fact she was here beside her already made her feel ten times better.
“Freddie not with you?”
Ada shook her head. “No, but it’s alright. I’m… I’m glad to see everyone.”
“We’re glad to see you too,” Polly hummed, kissing both Ada and Evie’s cheeks. “Now. Stop nattering and get in. We have a wedding to get to and I don’t want to miss this for the world.”
The girls didn’t need to be told twice. They knew an order when they heard it. They had a wedding to get to after all. John’s wedding… God help them all.
The ceremony was brief but pleasant. Even her father and Ada seemed to be getting on, grinning and teasing one another as Jonny completed the ritual, standing in front of the crowd gathered in the shipping yard the Lees currently called home.
Evie had never been to a gypsy wedding before. Not one like this, with so much colour and excitement for what was usually quite a somber ceremony according to the church she was used to. Yes, Esme - her newest relative - was wearing white as she made her way down the aisle, but that was pretty much where the resemblance ended. After all, when had church ever involved the use of a knife before? … or real blood?
Evie had clearly been going to the wrong services.
“That’s the mingling of the two bloods. Where two families become one family,” Jonny explained, grinning ear to ear as Esme and John clasped hands together. The look on their faces said it all. “I now pronounce you, man and wife! Go on John, kiss the bride, will you?”
The cheer was instantaneous, as were the celebrations that followed.
Evie was quick to hug and congratulate John and his new bride. To her relief, he seemed happy - excited even, and who could blame him? Esme was gorgeous. After a few moments of talking, Evie had also deduced that she was wild and almost as much of a true gypsy as Polly. She was also kind, witty and clever - she had to be if Tommy had accepted her to join their family, their side of this now resolved conflict. He wouldn’t have accepted just anyone and yet again, they were all forced to have faith he knew what he was doing.
That didn’t mean Evie had to hold it against Esme. No matter how she’d joined the Shelby clan, she was a Shelby nonetheless and Evie knew better than most how daunting it was to join such a clan as this.
“Congratulations,” she smiled once more, kissing John’s cheek and nodding at his bride. “Be good to one another.”
“We will be.”
“And welcome to the family, Esme.”
“Thank you,” she nodded, grinning as John slid his arm about her waist and held her close.
Evie took that as her cue to leave the newly weds to it. As it was, one of the younger Lee boys had decided to take advantage of the fact she was currently by herself, lingering by the now raging dance floor.
He was quick to stand beside her, taking her hand and shoot her a teasing grin. “Fancy a dance?”
Evie automatically went to decline, but changed her mind. He was handsome and the night was young. “Why not?” she shrugged. It was a night of peace and celebration after all. “Just don’t blame me if I stand on your toes.”
With that, she let him grab her other hand and spin her into the crowd. She didn’t know the steps, if there even were any, nor did she know the song the band were singing. All she knew, was that she felt weightless, skipping about with her partner.
“I’m Antony,” he grinned, bellowing to be heard over the violin and drumbeats.
“Pleasure to meet you, Evelyn Shelby!”
Give it five more minutes, and several broken toes, and she’d see if he still felt that way after all.
Just because the light soon disappeared, didn’t mean the celebrations did. In fact, as candles and lanterns were lit, so too were everyones spirits; There were drinks being poured, games of cards being won, and at one point - gunshots and fireworks.
It was official, Evie loved weddings. Particularly, Shelby weddings.
She also liked dancing and was not looking to stop anytime soon. She’d danced with multiple partners, making her way around the floor before finally ending up beside her aunt. For a pregnant woman, Ada was doing rather well at keeping up.
To be honest, if Evie was having fun, then Ada was on a whole other level. It was almost hysterical watching as her aunt spun and cheered and staggered about the place. After weeks, months even, without her, she was glad to have her back and making mischief with her.
“Fuck. I missed dancing!”
“That’s not dancing!”
“It is!” she protested, snagging Evie’s arm and spinning her around and around. “I should know. I taught you, didn’t I?”
Evie erupted into laughter at the memory. “I think we broke Polly’s vase when you tried to dip me!”
“And her clock with that lift!”
Both girls erupted into further laughter, tears trickling down their cheeks. All Evie could see was the memory of her aunt Polly’s face as she’d come into the kitchen to find Ada lifting Evie over her head, surrounded by broken china and glass.
“God! I’ve missed you,” Evie whined, hugging Ada close as her emotions over took her for a second. Her aunt didn’t seem to mind though as she hugged her back tightly.
“I’ve missed you too. We should never go this long without speaking ever again.”
“Fine by me. After the baby’s born, we should go dancing together.”
As if proving her enthusiasm for the idea, Ada began to twirl all over again, faster and more manically than before. Apparently it was enough to worry her family. Arthur was by their side in an instant.
“Come on, Ada. Enough now. Enough,” he tried, to no avail. He went to reach for her, only for her to spin away faster. “Ada.”
Even Tommy was coming over from his seat, sighing as he approached. That was enough to knock the smile from Evie’s face, especially as she noticed Polly’s concerned expression. What did they expect? Ada had always enjoyed living vicariously and she’d been locked away for weeks.
“Ada,” her father coaxed, addressing her like some spooked animal. “Come on, have a rest. Sit down now.”
“Come and look, Esme! Look at the family you’ve joined!” Ada bellowed in reply. “Come look at the man who runs it, who picks his brother’s wives for them!”
Evie turned, an apology already on her lips as John and Esme were startled from their own celebrations. She could see John was about to say something less than nice to his drunk, pregnant sister.
“He hunts his own sister down like a rat, and tried to kill his own brother-in-law!”
“Ada, that’s enough!” Arthur urged, as both Polly and Tommy closed in.
“Now, he won’t even let me have a fucking dance!-”
“-Not even at a fucking wedding,” she seethed, glaring at Tommy whilst Polly tried to wrap her arms around her niece and guide her to a chair.
“Sit her down,” John pleaded.
Jesus. Every Shelby was involved now. Only Finn appeared to be missing and he was too busy playing with the Lee children to care. Else, he’d have found it hilarious.
“Calm down, Ada. Calm down.”
However, Ada’s face was anything but calm. In fact, it looked horrified. Polly only had to glance down to know why.
“Holy shit.” She sighed. “Water. Right.”
“Bloody hell Ada,” Arthur groaned. “You do pick your times.”
“Her water’s broke!”
“I didn’t plan this!”
“Right we need to move.”
“Get off me, Tom.”
Everyone erupted into chaos. Evie lost track of who was talking or even in charge of the scene. She simply followed, excitement and panic coursing through her as she took Ada’s hand and squeezed.
“I’m right here,” she promised, helping towards the waiting car. “I swore it at the beginning and I meant it. You’ll always have me. I’m not going anywhere. Not until we have a screaming baby in your arms.”
So much screaming.
It was official - Evie was never having a baby.
“I know,” Polly cooed, manoeuvring the sheets about as she peered up from her position between Ada’s parted legs. “If it didn’t it wouldn’t be called labour.”
“I want Freddie!”
“Please!” she sobbed, laying her sweaty head back against Evie’s chest. Despite Polly’s warning Evie had chosen to stay. She wasn’t going anywhere. Even if she knew nothing about delivering a baby, she knew all about loving and supporting her family. She and Ada had been there for each other time and time again.
Nothing had changed, just because Ada was married.
“You can do this,” Evie whispered, kissing her aunt’s damp brow. “Freddie’s on his way. You heard Polly. Dad’s given his word. Freddie can come. He’ll be here any second.”
“So will this little one,” Polly urged as Ada yelped again, a contraction cutting off the conversation. “Keep going. That’s right. Push.”
And to her credit, she did. Ada pushed, screaming and crushing Evie’s hand in the process. Yet, Evie wouldn’t have had it any other way. Her heart was racing as within the span of mere minutes she heard the soft cries of a baby.
“Oh my god,” she whimpered, hugging Ada tightly as she tried to catch her breath. Polly and Esme were doing their part, cleaning and tidying everything below before presenting the baby to its mother. “You did it, Ada. You did it.”
“I did,” she giggled, almost deliriously. She looked like she could have slept for weeks.
“Ada. Congratulations, darling. It’s a boy.” Polly’s voice broke them from their celebration as they turned their eyes downward to the cloth wrapped bundle now being passed their way. Soft, tiny fingers poking out were all Evie could see as she gaped at her new cousin.
She wanted to cry. Damn it, Ada and Polly actually were crying, as was the baby. It was a room of crying people. All shedding happy tears though.
“A baby boy,” Ada whispered, staring at the bundle in her arms.
Then they heard it.
The door banging below.
“Ada! Come on! Open up!”
“Freddie,” Ada whimpered, exhausted eyes turning to the hall. She didn’t even have to ask. Polly was already half way down the stairs. The already perfect moment would now be complete, as would their family now that the father had arrived. Just in time too.
He would get to meet his son.
Evie couldn’t have been happier for Ada, grinning as she heard Freddie’s frantic footsteps approaching. The look on his face as he burst into the room was awestruck.
Then again, seeing his wife, beaming ear to ear, cradling their newborn in her arms tended to have that affect on a person.
“It’s a boy, Freddie,” Ada whispered.
Freddie simply blinked. His smile grew as he took the invitation, approaching slowly before perching on the stool next to them. Evie was quick to move aside, allowing him to take her place as he reached over and took the bundle for himself.
One look was all it took.
He was in love.
“It’s a beautiful baby boy,” he gaped, much to everyone’s amusement. Polly even wiped her eyes hastily, as if trying to hide her tears of joy. “There you go. Welcome to the world, son. Welcome to the world.”
His tone was of wonder and of euphoria as he stared down at the boy in his arms. Who knew what he was thinking.
Was that how her father would have looked, had he been there for her birth? Would he have stared at her like she was his entire world? Evie gulped at the thought. It was stupid to think of such things, but she couldn’t help it. A small part was jealous as she witnessed the tender tableau before her.
The truth was, her mother had probably been alone. Who had she had as a friend to hold her hand or assist with the birth? Maybe their neighbours? They were always kind to them, looking out for the small family. Still, it wouldn’t have been like this, that much Evie was sure of. Not full of love and support.
Her mother had had her reasons, Evie knew that. It just didn’t make witnessing what they could have had any less painful.
“What are you going to call him?”
“Karl,” Ada grinned, answering Esme’s question. “After Karl Marx.”
“Bloody hell,” Polly sniggered. “Karl’s a lovely name, Ada.”
A lovely name for a lovely boy. Evie was about to say as much when there was yet another knock at the door. Well, knock probably wasn’t the right word, not when the door rattled under the weight of their visitor’s fist.
“Police! Open up!”
Everyone froze. No one knew what to do.
The Police? The Police were here? Why? How?
“Oh god,” Evie choked, reaching instinctively for Ada and taking her hand. She also watched as Polly was quick to snatch Karl out of his father’s arms and placed him securely back with his mother.
That was all they had time for as the door burst open down below. Everything that followed for the next five minutes was pure pandemonium. Evie didn’t even know where to look. She lost track with the sudden surge of bodies in the house, all arguing and brawling, dragging Freddie outside with them.
Esme was vicious in her attempts to defend her new family. Polly too, was screaming blue murder as she tried and failed to stop them. She was also gone, storming out mere moments after the Police had left.
No one needed to ask to know where she was headed, or whom she intended to see. “I’m gonna set this right,” she’d rambled, kissing a now hysterical Ada as she left.
How? How could anyone make this right? Evie didn’t know how it could have gone wrong. No one knew Freddie was here. Her father had given his word. He wouldn’t have lied to them… not today… not even he was that callous.
Evie wished she could be sure. However, she had bigger concerns than her father’s integrity to worry about; Ada was already pushing herself up, onto her feet, and trying to reach for her forgotten coat and shoes.
“I need to go home.”
“No,” Esme pleaded, trying to force her to sit back down by the fire. “You just gave birth. You need to rest.”
“What I need is my husband,” Ada sobbed. “I need to be out of this house!”
Evie took that as her cue to intervene, before her aunt did any damage to herself or anyone else in the room. “I’ll take you home, ok?” she offered, reaching for her arm. “We’ll take the car. Save you walking.”
Whilst well intentioned, the look Evie passed Esme told her it was hopeless. She’d soon learn Shelby women did only what they wanted, when they wanted. Everyone else could be damned. Right now, Ada cared about one thing and one thing only: keeping herself and her baby safe. That meant getting as far from Shelby territory as possible.
“Tell Polly where we’ve gone if she comes back, ok?” Evie stated, nodding at Esme.
To her credit, Esme didn’t argue. She hurried to gather Ada’s things, helping Evie to assist her aunt and new-born cousin into the back of the waiting car. She even offered to accompany them.
“I know about babies and what needs doing now,” she explained, hopping into the passenger’s seat. “I’ll be more use to you there than sitting on my ass here.”
Evie and Ada were visibly grateful for her company; They were going to need all the help they could get.
It was hours before either Evie or Esme returned. In fact, the sun was already beginning to rise as Evie rounded the corner of Watery Lane, the engine humming as it bounced across the cobbles. Whilst she much preferred riding to driving, she’d learned all the same during the war. When there hadn’t been any men to drive anywhere.
Like riding, she loved the solitude and freedom driving offered. She only wished she could turn the car around and drive away from it all… anywhere else… anywhere but here would have been good enough for her.
Her rage had been steadily building with every moment that had passed since Freddie had been taken. By now, she was shaking as she controlled the urge to march inside her house and shoot the lot of them.
Instead, she ground to a halt, slamming the car door harder than necessary and barging her way into Watery Lane.
She’d hardly made it in the door before Polly was upon her, wide eyed and panicked.
“She’s alright, Pol,” Evie soothed, glad to see the immediate relief in Polly’s eyes. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t be hurrying back to Ada the moment she could, to check on her for herself. “She’s sleeping. I made sure she ate and kept an eye on her. Esme did too. She’s there to help with feeding and stuff when the baby wakes. Ada just needs sleep.”
Her aunt’s face relaxed at the news, but her skin was still too pale. “She shouldn’t be alone. Not now.”
“She didn’t have much choice,” Evie spat, her eyes following to the guilty party. The one who had made this divide. “Isn’t that right, Dad?”
She hadn’t even acknowledged the others in the room until that point, but now her stare was ice cold as she focused on them.
She grabbed the nearest item - a teapot of all things - and hurled it at his head. Luckily, Tommy dodged, meaning it shattered harmlessly against the wall. But the look of disbelief on his face was accurate enough.
“Oi!” he warned, hurrying to reach her before she could throw something else. Had John not wrapped his arms around her, she probably would have. There were several teacups she had always hated in particular, lying within reach in an open invitation. “Listen to me! I didn’t do this.”
“Then who did?” Evie bellowed.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t-? Bullshit.”
Evie spat at him, breaking free of John and pushing him off of her.
“Pack it in!” he begged, rolling his eyes. “Tommy wouldn’t do this.”
Whether they believed him or not didn’t matter. Evie knew in her heart they’d been betrayed. If not by her father then who was it? Who was she supposed to believe had this kind of information, other than family?
“First you dictated John’s life. Now theirs? Is there anyone you won’t control?”
“Don’t,” she seethed, panting from the exertion. “Don’t touch me. If you had anything to do with this,” she warned, “then I’ll never speak to you again. Ever.”
“It wasn’t me!”
“Promise! On your mother’s life.”
A stray tear escaped Evie’s eye as she turned and stormed back across to Polly. Such an oath had to be honoured until it was proven otherwise. But that didn’t mean Evie had to like it. So, she choose to leave her father where he stood: on shaky ground.
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Svu oneshot where Reader is grumpy? You can decide what and why, you always have good ideas!🥰
A/N: Short and probably not good but at least I tried :)
Annoyed and with a headache you came out of the interrogation room with Finn and stood by your captain, who was already standing at the mirror glass and had probably overheard everything so that you didn't have to say anything. In fact, you didn't want to make a single note of yourself.
You heard the two of them talking, but the words became more and more incomprehensible as you tried to rest your head on your hands and close your eyes for a brief moment.
It was already 8am again and the first detectives arrived at the presidium while you and your team were working a night shift. You've had next to no sleep for the past few days. A serial rapist was at his best and as soon as you fell into your bed exhausted after work and closed your eyes, your cell phone began to rang; he had struck again.
The hand that was still resting on your back sat you back in the present and you looked into the brown hazel eyes of your boss and best friend. "All good?"
"Yes, just tired of being tired."
She smiled worriedly in acceptance and tilted her head to one side as she continued to slide her hand up and down your spine. "How about you take the rest of the day off? You've been working really hard the last few days."
"Not an option," you said with determination, took a deep breath and threw yourself back into the interrogation again.
Finn pointed his finger at you and already putting his free hand on the handle of the door to open it before he looked back to Olivia, laughing and shaking his head in disbelief. "Fuck, this kid is though."
"Are you alright?" Amanda leaned in her chair for a short pause and looked over at you, watching how you threw yourself into your chair and pulled yourself to the desk with a little more force. "Yeah, why?"
It was already 2pm and you were hungry but there was still no time to eat or rest. You pulled a file from the huge pile next to you and tried to concentrate on what was written in it, but it just didn't work in your momentary state. Your attention span and patience were so short due to sleep deprivation that you didn't even had the sentence you just read in your head.
"You look mad."
"That's just my face." you cried out and leaned back into your chair. With your head back resting in your neck, you folded your hands over your eyes and tried to block out the world around you.
You didn't even noticed that Olivia and Finn had already returned from field work and were standing behind you. They too, like Amanda and Kat, had to laugh at your grumpiness and bad mood. They never took the way you talked to them seriously when you weren't the happy and smiling person they knew.
Instead, they took it with humor and tried to push you up even further, at least Finn.
"Man, I can't stand you being this grumpy." said the only man in the gang of girls jokingly and put a hand on your shoulder while shaking you a little in your seat.
He also didn't take it seriously, even thought it was nice to be able to argue with you without you being able to misunderstand it. In this state of your ego you weren't even thinking about what was said to you. At the end of each of these days, they always had something to laugh about with you.
"Then damn it, sit down." you stated before you heard the bags and wrappers. As if you had woken up from your trance, you looked around to find them.
Olivia, the only one who didn't like to see you like that, had brought you and the others food as an encouragement and reward for the hard work, which you could enjoy together as a family during a little break.
After lunch you fell in your bad mood again and you weren't exactly the greatest detective someone would wish for when they were arrested. It wasn't better back in the interrogation room, there were screams, words and therefore some confessions that you could squeeze out of the perpetrators.
10pm rolled around and you still weren't done with work. Kat, Finn and Olivia already went home and announced the fight against the stressful day as a win while you and Amanda wanted to look over and sign the remaining files that piled up at your desks.
The silence that normally never existed in the open-office was no great help in the fight against the tiredness and even the soft music that Amanda had turned on did nothing more than threaten to close your eyelids. Again and again you fell into a micro sleep but you absolutely wanted to achieve your goal for today so you fought against it; not much was missing.
"Why are you glaring at me behind my back?" you asked the blonde standing behind you and put your pen down to write for the last time today.
Curiously you waited for a question or an answer from her, but only heard the scratching of a cardboard box. "Umm," she walked around you and stood by your side. You could literally feel her penetrating gaze on you. "You didn't eat my food, did you?"
This time it was you who laughed and looked up at her. You threw your pen in the corner of your desk and closed the file before you put your hands on your stomach, leaned back in your chair and put your feet on the table to finally relax.
A hand wandered in front of you as you shook your free wrist a few times, looked at your imaginary watch and examined it broodingly. "Wasn't suicidal last time I checked, so no."
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Store Worker: Would a Mx. Tommy please come to the front desk?
Tommy, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem?
Store Worker: points to Arthur, Finn and John
Store Worker: I believe they belong to you?
Arthur Finn and John , simultaneously: We got lost :(
Tommy: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me
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Bonnie, Isiah, Finn and reader would absolutely have parties together if the house is empty on a Friday night. Reader pulls out their speaker and breaks out the bops from the early 2000's and y'all get absolutely sloshed. Just four peeps vibing and dancing really badly together and drinking a concerning amount of cocktails.
Note that this doesn't happen often because the boys are always busy and if you're part of the PB's business then you would be too. If you're not part of the business the boys would absolutely spend all night playing 80's love songs and dancing with you as a silent way of apologising for not being around as much as any of y'all would like. Even if one of them is your love interest you dance with all of them because at the end of the day y'all are still a friend group and y'all really love each other.
Now, if John stumbles upon this party, you better be ready. This man is a firecracker and the life of the party and will turn it from a tame hangout into 'let's see who can drink more of Tommy's supply of vintage wine quicker' and then a 'oh shit Tommy's car is pulling up hide the fucking bottles'. He might also call up a whole bunch of random people and turn it into a house party.
Let's just say that Tommy is less than pleased if he finds out.
Which he normally does because when he gets back all five of you are passed out and there is mess everywhere.
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Tommy: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends.
Arthur: ... Your what?
Tommy: My friends.
Finn: Is he saying “friends”?
John: I think he’s being sarcastic.
Micheal: No, no, no, this is delirium, he has cracked from being awake all night. Hey, Tommy! All of your friends are in this room.
Tommy: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.
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A Lover And A Fighter - Richie Tozier
word count: 3122
warnings: swearing, sight sexual harassment
summary: Richie promised (y/n) that he wouldn’t get into fights anymore, but sometimes he just can’t help himself. Especially when it comes to protecting her.
It was an understatement to say that Richie was protective of you. The boy was downright insane about it. Everyone in Derry knew not to fuck with (y/n), not unless they wanted Richie Tozier tracking them down and beating them half to death.
You’d given him a talk numerous times. But not once did they work, it always went in one ear and out the other..
He’d beaten up three ex boyfriends, a couple guys that looked at you the wrong way, and Greta Keene. He was proud of that amount.
But he’d promised that he would try his best not to act out on your behalf anymore. And you made him pinky promise. That’s a big deal. And he didn’t want to break your trust or your promise.
However… once he walked past Henry Bowers and his dumbass friends, and heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t stop himself from getting involved.
“What was that?” He spoke before he could think things through.
The boys turned to him, each bearing a scowl that wasn’t out of character.
“I said, (y/n’s) not fucking worth it,” Henry practically growled out. “Now why don’t you fuck off, Tozier?”
“Your damn fucking right it’s not worth it,” Richie spat back, turning away, doing the right thing. “I’d break your goddamn nose” He muttered under his breath.
“It’s not worth it to try and get in her pants,” Henry called out before Richie could walk far enough away.
He stopped in his tracks.
“Cause she’s such a slut anyways, it’s not a real victory to fuck-”
Richie had never whipped around so fast. And with the punch he delivered went all common sense, and all the promises and reassurances he’d given you to prove he was going to ‘mature’ as you’d begged him to do.
“Hey, Richie,” You held your phone between your ear and shoulder as you painted your toes. “This is like, my fifth message… so… call me back, I guess. Okay, bye”
You sighed as you set the phone back on it’s holster. Richie wasn’t the type of guy to stand you up, especially on taco tuesday. And even if something came up, he always always, called. But now he couldn’t even bother to return one of your calls, leaving you to assume that he was upset with you for some reason, and therefore ignoring you.
You weren’t sure what you did, and at this point, you also weren’t sure that he was going to tell you either.
When Richie didn’t want to talk to someone, he was the damn best at avoiding them.
But he’d never given you the cold shoulder. And there was a time that you’d thought he never would. Richie was your best friend, you trusted and confided in him more than anyone else, even the other Losers. And in the last seven years of being his best friend, he’d never treated you this way. In fact, he always treated you amazingly, like a princess, it was very surprising actually, the way he cared about you.
It was that care that always led him to picking fights where he shouldn’t be, though. It started with your ex boyfriend. He broke up with you once a ‘better, prettier’ girl showed interest (his words), and the next thing you knew, Richie was throwing him against the lockers.
When your next boyfriend straight up cheated on you, Richie took care of him too.
He broke the third one’s nose.
And then there was the Greta Keene incident… Beverly may have let it slip that Greta had been writing nasty rumors about you in the girls bathrooms. And Richie declared that he didn’t have a problem beating up a girl if it was justified (and if that girl had man arms). That was when you drew the line, and made Richie swear to try and control his anger. And he pinkie promised to work on it, and that he wouldn’t get into any more fights over you.
You weren’t sure why he got so enraged over these things. It was just drama, and you found it pointless that he tried to bring you justice, since he was so reckless about it.
It was getting late, and you knew that Richie wasn’t going to return your calls. So you finished painting your toenails blue, and decided to spend the night in your room, reading, alone.
Even though you should have been eating a bunch of tacos and gossiping with Richie.
Just as you got situated in bed, and had turned off the overhead light in exchange for the soft glow of your lamp on the bedside table, there was a knock on the window.
When you glanced over, you could tell it was Richie by his silhouette, and you frowned slightly.
Nonetheless, you got up and unlocked the window, before sliding it open.
“Where the hell have you been?” You asked.
He could tell that you couldn’t see his face very well.
“Busy, you gonna let me in?” He grinned.
“Richie, it’s-” You glanced over your shoulder to the alarm clock on your table, before glaring back at him. “-midnight. Are you kidding me? Did I do something to piss you off?”
“What? (y/n/n), no-”
“Then how come you were dodging all my calls? And you’re seven hours late?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest..
Richie crawled in through the window, even though you hadn’t invited him in yet. But he figured it was only a matter of time before you cave anyways.
Your distressed face disappeared as you caught sight of him now that he was in the light. His left eye was bruising, and so was his right cheekbone. Along with a split lip and a bloody nose, it was clear what had happened.
“Oh, Richie…” You mumbled, hand reaching up to cover your mouth as your eyes widened at the sight of him. “Tell me you didn’t-”
“Look it’s not what you think-” Richie tried to protest.
“Don’t give me that shit”
He knew he fucked up, because you weren’t yelling. Your voice was soft, and low. You were heartbroken.
He stared down at the ground, too anxious to look at you anymore. Not when you looked so disappointed in him.
“You promised- you-you pinky promised me-”
“I know-! I know and I’m sorry, really, I’m really fucking sorry” He told you, desperately hoping that you’d forgive him.
You shook your head at him, and gestured for him to sit before you left the room. Richie was the most frustratingly complicated person that you knew, and it drove you insane. Why he couldn’t just walk away and not beat the shit out of people… you weren’t sure. But it really hurt you that he didn’t even seem to try, and he broke his promise.
Richie was sitting on the side of your bed when you came back into the room. He chuckled as he eyed the first aid kit in your hands, the same one that you’ve used the last four or five times you dealt with the aftermath of his episodes of rages.
“You don’t have t-”
“Yes I do” You cut him off and unpacked what you’d need.
You were upset, you were fuming, actually. It angered you that Richie broke his promise, not even a month after making it. That promise was important to you, because he was important to you. And now here he was, waiting to be fixed up by you once again after he so stupidly, so recklessly got himself beaten to a pulp.
But no matter how angry you were, you remained silent. Dabbing at the excess blood under his nose, which at least wasn’t bleeding anymore. And when you were finished with his cheek, you moved on to rubbing cream over the bruise on his cheek. Richie’s eyes fell shut as he sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool lotion, and your gentle fingers.
He knew your silence wasn’t a good thing. In fact, it was the worst thing. It meant he messed up beyond redemption. And he’d never fucked up that bad before. Sure, he’d pissed you off and frustrated you on the daily, but that was just the hallmark of his friendship, and it was never anything serious. Just when he dragged you out in the middle of the night for slushies, or got you in trouble in class because he was running his mouth. He’d never made you this genuinely upset before.
“Save it” You muttered before he could even start with the apologies.
That was another hallmark of his friendship. You knew what came next. The apologies, the excuses, the begging for your forgiveness, followed by a playful ‘you know you love me, you need me’ and puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t refuse. Except tonight, you might just be able to.
He took you by surprise when he didn’t protest, and snapped his mouth shut. Your eyes met his for a moment, before you started applying a smaller amount of lotion on the bruise surrounding his eye. It was going to look a lot worse in the morning, but this would help with the pain now.
You hated that your heart ached for him right now. You hated that you wanted to cry and hold him and make him feel better. Because you were so fucking mad-
“I don’t understand,” The words suddenly spilled out of your mouth, as if your mind just couldn’t take them swimming around in your head anymore. “I just- I- I don’t fucking get it”
He nodded, ducking his head down, only for you to lift it back up by his chin and continue with the lotion.
“I care about you, dumbass, and all I asked, which I thought was simple, all I asked was for you to stop with the fighting-”
“I know” He mumbled back.
You stared at him skeptically, wondering if he really did know, or if he’d show up again in a few weeks with the same battered face and guilty look in his eyes. Richie didn’t look back at you. He couldn’t.
“Who?” You asked, trying to soften your voice so he wouldn’t whither away from you like he was doing right now.
“You’re not gonna like it” Richie answered, fingers pinching at your bedsheets in an attempt to distract himself. From the pain that burned across his whole face, or from the intensity in your eyes, he wasn’t sure, but he needed the distraction.
He hadn’t had a smoke in months, but it sounded pretty damn good right now.
“Well, newsflash, I don’t like any of this,” You told him. “But I think I deserve to at least know what happened”
Of course you do, Richie hung his head in his hands. You deserve so, so much better.
You watched as he rubbed his palms over his eyes, and it took everything in your power not to take his hands and hold them in yours, to tell him it was okay and you forgave him.
He muttered the single word without even looking at you. But he didn’t have to look at you to know exactly what you looked like in that moment. You probably had a dropped jaw and furrowed brows. Disappointment, disgust, anger, all displayed in one heartbreaking look.
“Richie…” You murmured without meaning to. “Why? Why would you-”
“I had to, okay?” He shot up suddenly. “I know that you hate it, and as soon as I swung I- I knew I fucked up, but I had to”
You wanted to argue it, argue that there’s always another option, that he can always walk away. But you bit your tongue. Something about the way he spoke told you that there was more to this than his stupidity.
“I’m sorry, (y/n/n), I am. But I… I don’t regret it”
Your heart sunk all the way down to your stomach. Richie had such a toll on your emotions and he didn’t even know it.
“Tell me what happened” You said quietly, and shifted closer to him.
You wanted him to know he had your undivided attention, and that he should have the chance to at least explain what happened. You pulled your leg up to rest on the mattress, and turned your body to face him.
Richie looked at you before looking back down at his hand, which was now fisted in your blankets.
“Richie,” You hummed, brows furrowing as you saw how reluctant he was to opening up. “Tell me” The words were so soft, it was almost inaudible.
You wondered what Henry could have done that Richie didn’t want to tell you about. He must have really outdone himself.
“He was just talking shit-”
“Richie,” You cut off his bullshit before he could even start. “Come on, the truth”
“I deserve to know, Tozier! Whatever it is, I don’t care, okay? Just tell me-”
“He said you weren’t worth sleeping with!”
Just like that, you’d gotten him to snap.
And you shut up instantly, shocked by the outburst. His words processed slowly in your head.
“He said it wasn’t worth trying because you’re- because you’re a slut, and it wasn’t fucking true!” Richie continued to yell. Not at you, he just couldn’t contain his own anger anymore.
And you thought you were pissed.
“Motherfucker had your name in his nasty fucking mouth and he was telling his buddies fucking lies and I couldn’t- fuck I couldn’t walk away. I should’ve fucking killed him”
You were staring at him, speechless. You should’ve known it was about you, Richie was always so fiercely protective of you. And Henry’s wouldn’t be the first nose that he’d broken protecting you. But this wasn’t like before. He’d beaten on your ex boyfriends after they broke your heart. Henry hadn’t said or done anything to you, he was just doing what boys do. (Make shit up because they think it makes them impressive when really they’re even shittier than they look)
“I didn’t mean to break your promise,” Richie huffed. His face was slightly flushed after his mini tantrum. His hands grabbed both of yours, holding them close to him. “I’m so sorry I put you through this again”
You were still silent, but he knew this wasn’t a bad silence. You were still processing, still trying to figure out how to forgive him while making sure this was the last time he crawls through your window looking like this.
“I hope you know that it came from a place of- of caring about you,” He added. “Caring about you too much, I guess” He mumbled as an afterthought.
Your stupid lovesick heart skipped a beat at the sweet words. Richie wasn’t one for words, at all, but he somehow managed to say the most loving things without even realizing it.
“I can’t promise it won’t happen again, that much is clear. And if Bowers says one more goddamn thing about your ass I’ll fucking string him up- I will- but I can promise I’ll try, okay? I will, I’ll really try”
He squeezed your hands a little bit, hoping you believed him, hoping you trusted him.
Your eyes flickered between his for a moment, and you could see in them that he was being sincere, and that he was broken up over hurting you.
“You…” He started to speak, but trailed off unsurely. “You deserve better” He finished.
His eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, before he turned away.
You shake your head, before you let go of one of his hands, and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, turning him to look back at you.
You cut him off when you leaned in and gently kissed him, trying to be mindful of his split lip.
Richie’s eyes remained focused on your closed ones, too stunned to close them, or really kiss her back.
He wanted to kick himself when you pulled away. He managed to miss his fucking chance because he was too slow to do anything about it.
Your eyes fluttered open in such a beautiful way Richie swore you were holding his heart in your perfect little hands.
His brows were furrowed like you’d confused him, and you absolutely had. He hadn’t expected you to kiss him.
“Why’d you do that?” He asked breathlessly, and your cheeks burned pink.
Your shoulders raised a bit in a shrug, and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much.
“I just… wanted to” You whispered.
A smile twitched on the corner of Richie’s lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he pulled you in again, so he could kiss you right this time.
Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than he’d imagined they’d be. And he’d imagined countless times what they’d feel like. Daydreaming in class, before he fell asleep, and being right by your side for the last seven years.
Kissing you was bliss.
He did it again, taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you impossibly closer. He could feel your lips smiling against his own, and once again, his heart was beating out of his chest trying to get to yours.
“I’m in love with you, (y/n/n)” He murmured when you parted, and you laughed softly.
“That makes sense,” You replied, reaching a hand up to play with the curls on the back of his neck. “And… I love you too”
Richie gave you a sunshine smile, which you couldn’t help but return.
“I’m still upset, by the way,” You told him, still playing with the curls. “But only cause I’m tired of seeing you covered in bruises, okay?”
He nodded, and you leaned your cheek further against the palm of his hand.
“I promise to try” He said, and then raised his pinky.
You looked from his hand and then back to him, a slight glare in your eyes.
“Come on, just do it,” He urged, you rolled your eyes, but he was persistent. “Just link fuckin’ pinkies with me”
With a giggle you hooked your pinky with his, and held it for a moment.
“You want to go get tacos now?” He asked, and you grinned, nodding your head.
“You read my mind” You answered, and followed him back out the window.
It dawned on you that Richie was both your lover and your fighter. And he held those titles proudly.
As he took your hand and walked alongside you down the street, he decided there were no other title he’d want to be labeled, besides yours.
xoxo ~ jordie
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Star Shopping - Richie Tozier
word count: 8116
warnings: swearing, light sexual themes
summary: she’s his and he’s hers. it’s how it’s always been and it’s how it’ll always be.
+ based on this song
[ wait right here, i’ll be back in the morning // i know that i’m not that important to you but to me girl you’re so much more than gorgeous… so much more than perfect ]
“What if we’re together forever?”
She asked the sweet and impossible-to-answer question one night when they were twelve. They’d spent all day at the quarry with their friends, building a dam, looking for fish and turtles, and convincing their friend Stanley to swim in the water.
(y/n) was sitting in the grass by the water, enjoying the sounds of the sloshing waves and owls hooting, because she liked things like that. Richie was picking up rocks and flinging them out into the water, because he liked things like that.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” He asked, looking back at her and smiling a big smile.
(He’d lost a tooth last week, which made his grin a million times more precious)
She decided she liked that answer, and got up to help Richie find more rocks to throw into the quarry. She helped him lift up a rather large boulder, and awkwardly swing the rock into the water. It didn’t go far, and a lot of water splashed back onto them both, but they laughed enough that it didn’t feel cold anymore.
They ended up staying so late that it didn’t matter what time they went home, their parents would be furious either way. So they ran around catching fireflies for what felt like hours. Cupping the insects in their hands and admiring it before watching it fly away. Only to run after the next glowing creature they could see.
It was mostly (y/n), Richie didn’t care so much about catching bugs, but she just looked too damn happy every time she captured one between her hands. Her face lit up more than the insect did, she’d squeal with glee and grin and bounce a little. She’d watch as the bug crawled over her fingers with nothing short of wonder, and then when it’d fly away, she’d give him this huge smile. Like she was happy to have experienced such a thing.
And then repeat.
The pair were almost out until the sun rose, but Richie had decided that they should get home. She rode on the back of his bike, and luckily he’d offered to take her home so that she didn’t have to walk.
Her arms wrapped around her waist and she pressed her face in between his shoulder blades. It was quiet for a while, but a nice quiet. The kind of comfortable silence that can only linger between you if it’s two in the morning, and you’ve spent all day doing nothing and everything together. And he hoped that he could do this all the time, every day. (y/n) was his favorite person.
Of course they’re gonna be together forever. Why wouldn’t they be?
When he dropped her off at home, she thanked him, gave him a big hug, and kissed his cheek. And then she was tiptoe-running up to her door, and crossing her fingers that her parents were asleep and had no idea that she’d stayed out way past curfew.
Richie pressed his hand to his face the whole ride home, trying to savor the warmth that her lips had left on his skin. He fell asleep that way as well.
But there was a certain degree of warmth that couldn’t be saved, and it wasn’t the temperature. The instant that her lips had pulled away from his skin, a certain feeling in his stomach, it disappeared.
(They were butterflies, he just didn’t know it then)
[ right now i’m not really worth it if you give me time i can work on it… give me some time while i work on it ]
They’re fifteen when (y/n) shows up at Richie’s house in the middle of the night.
She’s wiped her tears away, and cleared her throat so that when she tells him she’s fine and just can’t sleep, he can’t tell she’s been crying.
He knows, though.
He knows because her cheeks are flushed, and maybe her eyes aren’t glossy anymore, but they’ve lost the spark in them that makes her seem so lively. She looked at him dully, desperately. And he knows she doesn’t want him to worry, otherwise she would’ve been honest. But nonetheless his concern for her grows tenfold.
He lets her inside, and offers her something to drink. She declines him, and he watches as she rings her hands together. Her back is turned to him as she stands in his living room, and he’s certain that it’s because she’s still trying not to cry. It’s awkward, but he gives her a few moments of peace to collect herself before he can’t take it anymore.
“(y/n)?” His voice is gentle, and somehow stern. He wants her to be forward with him, he wants her to want to tell him what’s going on. “What happened?”
She hums, before turning around with raised brows. He gave her a bored glare, wondering how she had the nerve to pretend like she didn’t understand his question.
You know better than that, he thinks. I know you better than that.
This time, when he says her name, it’s missing the softness. Instead, it’s solid, and his eyes are locked on hers in an intense stare, and she knows that he’s not going to ignore the tension that she’d brought with her into his house.
“Aiden- he- uh…” She trailed off, and turned her head away so that she didn’t have to look at him.
Of course. Of course this is about her sort of boyfriend, sort of friend-with-benefits. This was the only thing she’d been talking about since he’d asked her out. If you could call it that. Richie didn’t think that Aiden Ligerheid saying ‘I’m not emotionally available, but if you want to hang out and fool around, I’d be down with that’ was much a romantic invitation.
Then again, he hated the guy’s guts, so (y/n) told him he was just being biased.
“What’d he do?” Richie took a few strides towards her, bracing himself for the worst.
She looked up at him in surprise and horror, shaking her head.
“Oh my god, Richie, no,” She stammered out before he could get the wrong idea. “He just- um… decided he doesn’t want to… be with me anymore”
Richie was silent for a beat while the gears in his brain turned, trying to figure out what the hell that meant. Didn’t want to be with her anymore? Aiden was a bigger fuck up than he’d previously thought, because who in their right mind wouldn’t want to be with her? It didn’t make sense, and for a moment he thought she was lying, that something else had happened and she didn’t want to admit it.
But the look on her face told him that was it, that’s what happened. Aiden broke it off with her, and she’d cried over it. Richie couldn’t believe that she’d wasted tears over that motherfucker. He didn’t deserve a single one of them, and she didn’t deserve to feel so terrible.
That’s what he should’ve told her. He should have said I’m sorry, he should have said he’s a prick, don’t beat yourself up over a prick.
But the words that came out of his mouth were:
“Was he really with you in the first place?”
He meant well, he really, really did.
(y/n’s) mouth dropped open a little bit, and he instantly knew he’d said the wrong thing. His brain was screaming it at him right now. Abort! Abort! Take it back! But he was just as frozen as she was.
And then her eyes were glossing over, and she was walking past him, right out of the house, so that he wouldn’t see her crying. And it was too late.
By the time he’d moved his feet to call after her, she was rushing back home to cry by herself again. Her heart was broken enough, she didn’t need Richie to continue to hurt her too.
Fuck, it killed him that he hurt her.
She forgave him over time.
Actually, it was two days later. And there weren’t any words said. It’s just when she sat with him at lunch again, and struck up a conversation about the essay they had to write for English Literature. He was surprised, but didn’t want to fuck up again, so he pretended like nothing happened the other night and complained with her.
She picked at her food and barely made eye contact with him, but the few smiles she gave him were genuine. So at least she wasn’t angry with him, as far as he could tell.
Bill told him that night that he was overthinking way too much, and that he should just pluck up the courage to tell her what he was really thinking. Richie told him that was the problem, but Bill just rolled his eyes and dropped the subject, seemingly too annoyed to talk about it anymore.
It was a week before Richie got to hang out with (y/n) outside of school, but he couldn’t whine because he was too happy when she told him her night was free, and that she missed seeing him.
(They used to hang out every day before Aiden was in the picture)
He joked about missing her too, and asked how much she missed his body which made her giggle and blush, like most of his comments always did.
They spent the night trying to bake cookies from scratch, and then going to the store to pick up cookies, and having a movie marathon on Richie’s sofa. It was nice that Richie’s parents were never home, it gave them the privacy to do whatever they wanted. And (y/n) loved laying across the beat up couch cushions, legs strewn over his lap while he talked through the whole movie.
(Richie couldn’t keep his mouth shut for more than three minutes, she’d timed him. But she loved listening to his comments, whether they’re calling out the predictable scenes or making dumb jokes, she loved them.)
One or both of them would always fall asleep, and some time in the night Richie would get her a pillow and blanket before going to his own bed.
Tonight, when she woke up, he was still asleep in the most uncomfortable position she’d ever seen. She mustered up the little energy she had to sit up and maneuver him to be laying on the cushions so his neck wouldn’t hurt tomorrow.
Richie woke up (kind of, anyways, he wasn’t all too aware of his surroundings) and made a hum of approval at his much more comfortable position.
And then she crawled into the small space between him and the back of the sofa, wrapped her arms around his waist to keep her close to him, and keep her warm through the night.
Neither of them said anything, but that was mostly just cause they were barely conscious. However, Richie was conscious enough to tangle a hand in her hair and play with the soft strands.
(Sometimes his fingers would scratch against her scalp, she liked that)
[ cause we only have one conversation a week, that’s why your friends always hating on me // fuck ‘em though i did this all by myself, matter of fact i ain’t never ask no one for help // and that’s why i don’t pick up my phone when it rings ]
She’s seventeen when she wanders into the woods by herself. She doesn’t have to go far, because the doorway into the hideout Ben had built a few years ago is close by, she just has to find it.
It had been days since she’d last seen Richie, and at this point, she knew he was avoiding her. And normally, she wouldn’t be chasing him down in hopes of forcing him to tell her why he was doing it. But the Losers told her he wasn’t talking to them either, so she knew there was a deeper issue.
She knew she’d found him before she’d even climbed down the ladder.
It smelled like pot, and the air was smoky as soon as she opened the hatch.
And Richie knew it was her who had opened the door before she’d come inside, but only because she was grumbling as she stepped down the ladder.
He chuckled when she slipped on the last rail, and stumbled on her feet for a minute before catching her balance. She wasn’t as amused as he was.
Hands on her hips and scowl on her face, she walked up to where he was laying in the hammock and smoking a blunt, and took the poorly wrapped cig right out of his mouth.
“Where have you been?”
Her words sounded much more concerned than she’d intended. She meant to sound hard, because she should be pissed that he’s been dodging her. But she can’t. She cares about him too much and is too relieved to have tracked him down.
His lips push out into a pout as his eyes linger on his half smoked blunt she’s holding.
(y/n) groans, and throws it down on the ground before theatrically stomping it out with her boot. Eddie will yell at her about it later, but she doesn’t care about that right now.
“What’s going on with you?” She asks him. “You’ve been ignoring all of us, and now you’re down here smoking by yourself?”
Richie closes his eyes, and pushes his glasses up on top of his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. She scoffs at the action, and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Richie,” His name comes out of her mouth in a snap, and unlike every other time, it’s not sarcastic. “I’ve been worried”
“Well stop worrying then, you found me” He tells her with a forced smile and jazz hands.
He’s a bit buzzed from the few puffs of his blunt that he’d actually taken.
She’s silent for too long, and he’s itching to fill the empty space between them. With words or actions, he doesn’t know. But it’s too quiet and they’re too far apart and he can’t admit it but he’s hurting.
He reaches his arms out towards her and makes grabby hands.
The girl makes a sound of surprise, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, and he bats his long eyelashes in a pleading fashion, and waits for her to give in.
When she drops her arms from where they’re wrapped around herself, and he grins victoriously as she steps closer, just close enough that he can grab her hips and pull her down onto the hammock.
It swings a lot from the sudden movement and weight, and they both freeze because they think this might be the time this old thing finally breaks.
But it doesn’t. It stills, and then (y/n’s) just laying on her side, her front pressed against richie and their legs tangled awkwardly to keep their weight balanced in the center. Richie’s lying on his back, one arm folded behind his head casually, the other wrapped around her back.
Her head’s lying on his shoulder and she’s peering up at him from under her lashes, and he can feel her soft and steady heartbeat against his chest. It’s enough to fix him, he thinks. This is enough to make him feel better, to forget everything that had happened, to push down the thoughts that he’d been horrified to admit were true…
She’s waiting, he realizes. She’s staring at him and waiting for him to fess up.
The truth! His brain screams.
“What?” He plays stupid, but he must not have been good at it, because her lips pull into a small smirk, silently saying you know what.
She wiggles a little closer, and leans up so that she’s looking down at him.
“What’s going on, babe?” She hums, and the words are so soft, and the nickname is so sweet, that he’s about to explode, he’s sure of it. He knows it. If she calls him babe one more time like that, he will drop fucking dead, in the best of ways.
(He decides then that that’s the ideal way to go, with his heart in her hands and that sweet word rolling off her lips like honey. He maybe fantasizes about this many times later on)
WIth a sigh, he concludes that he can’t lie to her. Even if he wanted to, she knew him too damn well, and she would be able to tell. Telling the truth doesn’t look too good, but what choice does he have? Besides, he has to get it off his chest at some point…
“(y/n/n)?” He whispers her name, and right away, she knows he’s scared. Not, nervous, scared. And Richie Tozier might be a rather anxious boy, but he doesn’t get scared that easily.
She takes his hand, clasping her palm against his and giving it a light squeeze, hoping it’ll reassure him. I got you.
“You have to… promise me you won’t tell anyone, okay?” His words are slow, and his eyes are staring down at their hands.
And he’s trying, and the words are right there in front of him but he can’t seem to find them, and his heart is beating so fast that she can feel it against her own, and she hears it in the empty space between his words.
He sucks in a sharp breath, and when he exhales it’s shaky and he’s so goddamn scared.
She squeezes his hand once more, and his eyes finally meet hers.
She’d never seen him look so nervous around her before.
(Not even at homecoming last year when he’d asked her to dance (to a slow song!!))
“It’s okay,” She murmurs, and her free hand, the one that isn’t tightly wrapped in his, reaches up to his face.
She adjusts his glasses and messes with the dark curls that lay against his forehead until they’re placed away from his face so she can look at him, really look at him.
His heart has slowed down, and it’s gotten a bit quieter as well.
“Whatever it is,” She adds after a few beats, and after his breathing seems to have evened out. “It’s okay”
He closes his eyes for a minute, wondering if it would be easier if he wasn’t looking at her.
He realizes that it’s her gaze that actually calms down, and his eyes open again, meeting her curiously concerned (y/e/c) ones.
It’s so short, the two little words, but it feels like it took him ages to get out. He wonders if he spoke in slow motion, or if she’s even understood him because it’s quiet and all at once he’s terrified again.
“Bisexual” He says, like she needed the clarification.
What feels like another few years is really only a second.
She smiles at him sweetly, and presses her palm against his cheek before leaning down so she can kiss his cheek.
Her lips brush just under his glasses, and he can’t help but flutter his eyes shut for those few seconds that it lasts. For those few seconds he’s in bliss, and hopes that he can remember every part of this moment so he can replay it in his mind whenever he wants.
“Thank you for telling me”
She doesn’t tell him that she knew (or thought she knew), because it didn’t matter. This was his moment, just his. All she does his pat his cheek with her hand and smile at him, so he knows that she’s okay with it, because she loves him beyond comprehension.
He knows he’s safe and he’s loved, and fuck, the way she cares about him is something that consumes his every thought.
He wraps both of his arms around her, and hugs her tight. She giggles a bit as her face is pushed into his chest, but the giggle dies to a hum of delight as her own arms curl at his sides and she lets her eyes close.
They were both so blissed out they didn’t even need his weed.
(They smoked the last blunt he had anyways though, but that’s not until after a short nap they accidentally took)
[ i think it’s funny she opens up to me get comfortable with me // once i got it coming // i love her, she love me ]
When he kisses her for the first time, they’re eighteen.
It had been a normal day, if not a little boring. All they’d done is hang out at the quarry. Doing all the same things they used to do as kids, like skipping stones and catching fireflies, with a few added elements.
(Like the booze Richie might have stolen from his parent’s liquor cabinet)
When it started to rain, they thought they could sit in the car and wait it out, because rain usually didn’t last long in Derry’s summers.
Twenty minutes later, Richie turned on the car to blast heat into it, because they were getting cold just sitting there.
“Should we leave?” (y/n) asked defeatedly.
Rain pelted the car in a harsh downpour.
“Uh…” Richie looked down at the half empty bottle of vodka, and that was enough for her to realize they weren’t driving anywhere anytime soon.
They laughed, because it was hilariously sad that they were stuck here. If they drank any more, it would put off when they can drive home, and if they didn’t drink, they’d be bored and forced to sober up.
(y/n) snatched the bottle from him, and took a rather large swig. Richie scoffed and exclaimed something along the lines of that’s to share! Which made her giggle and lick the remaining liquid off her lips.
“What, I’m not the one driving home” She told him with a playful (and tipsy) grin.
He can’t argue with that, so instead he turns on the radio and enjoys watching (y/n) try to drink more.
(She takes maybe half a shot before capping the bottle and stuffing it in her backpack)
She’s sitting sideways on her seat, legs criss crossed, and Richie’s sitting upright but his body is turned to face her. One of his knees is pulled to his chest, his shoe planted on his seat.
She was laughing right now, loud and seemingly endless. He’d made some crack about how it sucked that they couldn’t make out in the rain, in a very end-of-those-shitty-romcoms-you-like sort of way.
“They’re not - shitty!” She said defensively, but Richie rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Okay, most of them are, but that’s not why I like them!” She was laughing so much she could barely get the words out, which only made Richie laugh with her.
And they sat there, laughing their asses off, and drowning out the sound of the pelting rain outside.
When their laughter finally begins to die, he’s just looking at her, a dumb smile on hier face that tells her he’s thinking, which can occasionally lead to something dangerous for him.
“What?” She asks him, leaning her head against the headrest of her seat. “What?” She asks, this time more demanding so he’ll spill whatever it is he’s thinking about.
He still doesn’t say anything, but his eyes don’t look away from hers, and there’s a small smile on his lips that’s growing and suddenly there’s butterflies in her stomach and she can’t really explain why. She’s convinced that she knows everything and nothing about this boy.
“What?” She asked a third time, this time in a murmur.
“I’m gonna miss ya when I go to California,” He told her. “It’s just… gonna be hard,”
She felt herself soften at the words, and a smile pulled on her lips. But that was normal. Richie had a knack for accidentally saying the sweetest things she’s ever heard.
“Like, really fucking hard” He added, and a small laugh left her lips.
“Yeah, I know,” She hummed, and then reached forward to take his hand. “But we’ll figure it out”
To be honest, she hadn’t thought of it. At least, she tried not to think of it. Richie left for California in a month, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to have left with him. She’d hung out with him every day for the last week, in denial that there’s going to be a few months that she’ll have to go without seeing him.
Suddenly it felt like their was a weight on her shoulders, the pressure of having a good time with Richie while she still can had set in, and it was slowly killing her.
“We don’t have enough ti-”
“I know,” Richie cut her off before she could freak out too much, because he knew that she was starting to. “But think about it, no amount of time would be enough”
Her heart melted.
“I guess,” She huffed. “We did spend our whole lives together so far”
Richie chuckled and nodded.
“That’s true. You’re lucky, in a month you won’t have to deal with me anymore” He joked.
She frowned, and her brows creased, and he knew that he’d said the wrong thing. He gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand before letting go of it.
“Come on, you deserve the break,” He told her, hoping to make her laugh at least a little bit, but she still looked down. “You’ll love it way more than-”
She cuts him off, shaking her head and telling him no, that she’ll hate it, and won’t know what to do without her best friend.
Richie cracks a few more jokes about how anyone would be lucky to get a break from him, and (y/n) tells him to stop talking like that, because it broke her heart to hear him say such awful things about himself.
(She was still a little tipsy, but her words were sweet nonetheless)
He smiled at her, leaning his head against the headrest as he admired how goddamn adorable she was.
“Do you remember Aiden Ligerheid?” RIchie asked.
The question confused her, because of course she remembered, that’s not why he was bringing it up. But why Richie would mention that shit-for-brains guy right now, she didn’t understand.
“And you remember coming over after-”
“- he dumped me, yeah, thanks for that brutal reminder, Tozier. What’s the point of this again?”
Richie leaned in a little closer, enough that he could hear her breath hitch in her throat. Her eyes widened a little bit, and she froze up under his gaze and close proximity.
She barely gets the chance to ask him what he’s doing before he’s speaking, and she shuts up right away.
“That night I told you he wasn’t with you in the first place,” He reminded her
(Not that she needed reminding, she remembered it clearly, because it was the first time that Richie had actually hurt her. And the cruel comment had made her feel ten times worse than she already did)
She’d known he hadn’t meant it that way, she knew that he had only spoken without thinking, and that he would never intentionally hurt her. But she was already so embarrassed and down about her breakup with Aiden that she didn’t want to deal with it from Richie too.
“I didn’t mean it- well I did- but I didn’t mean it like that” He told her in a jumble of words. His hands were moving too much, she noted. He was nervous.
“I know” She answered gently.
Her brows furrowed while he tried to collect his thoughts and figure out what it is he was really trying to say to her. She didn’t know where this was coming from, but it was clearly important to Richie, so she sat patiently and waited for him.
“I meant that he was awful, and that you didn’t deserve him, and he sure as fuck didn’t deserve you”
(Even with the three and a half minutes he’d taken to gather his thoughts, his words were still choppy, and unsure)
She nodded, because she knew. She’d realized it the morning after she’d stormed out of his house. What she had thought was a hurtful statement really was just Richie’s way of telling her he cares. His language is just different from hers. It didn’t take her long to crack the translation, though.
“Yeah, I know,” She said softly. “It’s been three years, Rich, you’re not still hung up on that, are you?”
Now she was just worried that he’d spent the last three years overthinking and worrying over their little fight for nothing. She’d forgiven him ages ago, and didn’t hold onto the past. But had he? All this time?
“No- well, not really, it’s just that… I wished I’d come after you, is all,” He shrugs, and it feels like a weight on his chest is lifted, just a little bit, for finally speaking his mind. “I shouldn’t have let you leave- holy shit that sounded terrifying-”
“It’s not terrifying,” She tells him with a giggle, and leans over the center console to grasp onto his arm. “I shouldn’t have left, that’s on both of us, alright?” She speaks so sweetly he wonders if she ate cotton candy before he picked her up. “But don’t worry about that anymore, it’s in the past, and I’m fine”
Richie doesn’t say anything, and his long moments of silence today are making her wonder what he’s really thinking. He’s obviously holding something in, and all she can do is hope that he confides in her about it.
“Can I do it over again?”
He asks her quietly, so quiet she can’t quite hear him over the heavy rain, but she reads his lips and nods her head. She doesn’t need him to, but she’s still unsure of what’s going on with him and he’s been having these weird moments for a while now, and maybe this will finally be the last one and he can feel like himself again.
(So she can feel like he’s himself again)
Richie nods his head back at her, and shuts his eyes before letting out a deep breath. (y/n) prepares herself emotionally for whatever it is that’s about to happen.
When he opens his eyes, he speaks more clearly than he has all day.
“I’m sorry he hurt you,” He says. “And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to stop him, or to stop you from giving him that much power over you. And in all honesty, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop you from going out with him in the first place. He’s a douchebag, and a girl like you shouldn’t be with a douchebag,”
He keeps going, and even if she wants to speak, she can’t, because her throat is burning and closing and she knows that it’s because tears are springing in her eyes.
“And I’m not saying I’m much better, but I’m certainly not a douchebag, and I would never, ever, do anything that hurts you. Not on purpose anyways, I know I slip up, but that’s- that’s not my point right now”
She blinks, hoping that it makes her eyes stop glossing over.
“And what’s your point?” She murmurs. Her breath hitches in her throat again, and again, he notices.
“My point is that…”
He can’t remember his point, not when she’s looking at him like that, like he’d just reached up into the sky and given her a handful of stars, like he’d just hung the moon, or made the sun rise.
“It’s…” He trails off again, too lost in her round and sparkling eyes, mesmerized at how it almost looks like the colors of her irises are swirling.
(They look like a Van Gogh painting, he thinks, but he’s too lost in them to find his voice and tell her)
She smiles, because she knows what he’s thinking just from the look on his face. And she realizes just how well she really knows him. She can read him better than anyone, maybe even better than himself.
His hand slides up her arm, and then over her shoulder, resting against the side of her neck. He was looking at her, but his eyes weren’t meeting hers.
“Richie?” She hummed, dying for him to say something, do something-
“It stopped raining” He murmured.
Okay, maybe not say that.
She realized now that he’d been staring at her lips this whole time.
A part of her wants to look outside, to see if it has stopped, but she was too worried of breaking up the moment she was in right now.
Her eyes wander downwards, but as soon as they land on his lips, he smirks a little bit, and she bashfully looks back up to his eyes.
When his hand travels from her neck to her cheek, she leans forward a bit in anticipation. He smirks again, because he knows she wants to kiss him, and he knows she won’t be the one to make the first move.
And so he does.
In one swift move he leans in the rest of the way, and pulls her in closer so he can plant his lips on hers.
It’s exciting because it’s new, and (y/n) had never felt like she’d melted into a kiss before today. And melt she did. Her hands tangled in his hair while her lips moved in sync against his. She had to admit, she’d thought about what it would be like to kiss Richie rather frequently, but no daydream could compare to this.
She’s not sure how long they sit there and kiss, and she’s not sure she wants to know because she doesn’t want it to stop.
Richie’s got his hands on her waist and his fingers are barely skimming under the material and leaving a chill on her skin. When she shudders a bit, his hands slide under her shirt to grip her waist.
And then, all at once and out of nowhere, he’s pulling away.
Her eyes fluttered open to find him already looking at her.
Neither of them said anything, not that there was anything that needed to be said. Richie smiled softly at her, before letting go of her hip so he could cup her face in his hand. She couldn’t help but smile back as his thumb stroked over her cheekbone.
Her fingers are still playing with his curls, and his heart is still close to bursting out of his chest.
And fuck, suddenly a month seems like a few days, and she was right. There wasn’t nearly enough time.
He kicked himself for not being forward about his feelings all this time. He’d had years, and they felt wasted.
He thinks about telling her so, but before he can gather the courage (and his voice) to do so, she’s carefully taking his glasses in her fingers, and pulling them off his face. Richie watches as she folds them and carefully places them in the cup holder so they won’t get smudged or damaged. And then she’s cupping his face in her hands, and she’s kissing him again.
But this time it was different.
It wasn’t experimental, it was as if she’d been kissing him forever, and his lips remembered hers. She was smiling against his mouth, and it was his new favorite feeling. She was happy, he was making her happy.
(Of course, he’d been making her happy for the last twelve years, but this was much different)
His arms wrap around her waist, and tug her upwards a bit, prompting her to climb over the center console and plop onto his lap. She concurs that making out with Richie in his car at the quarry is now her favorite thing, he favorite memory.
She jumped when she leaned back a little too far and hit the horn on the wheel.
Richie just laughed, because when she’d yelped and jumped, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and she had pressed herself completely against him out of shock.
When it wore off, she looked down at him with a playful glare, which he returned with a grin and a wink.
“Don’t even say-”
“Don’t even say what, babe?” He asks her with the slyest grin she’d ever seen on him. But she had to admit, it was pretty damn cute.
Her arms snaked out from around his neck so she could splay her hands over Richie’s cheeks again. She notices he’s squinting just a bit without his glasses on, and it makes her want to lean in closer to him so that he doesn’t have to narrow his eyes to see her.
She leans closer.
“What?” Richie asks, when he realizes that she wasn’t leaning in for a kiss, and she’s just smiling and looking at him.
(It’s adorable, but it confuses him)
“Now I’m not all blurry,” She tells him, her smile ever-so-present. “Right?”
And fuck, he couldn’t say it, but he loves her. He loves her so goddamn much in this moment that he can’t even speak. He shakes his head and he’s grinning and he loves her he loves her he loves her.
“Right” He finally answers, and he cups her face in his large hands.
She beams, and then leans in the rest of the way to connect their lips again.
[ look at the sky tonight, all of those stars have a reason // a reason to shine, a reason like mine and i’m falling to pieces ]
She’s sitting on the railing of the kissing bridge, smoking a cigarette and enjoying the peacefulness.
Richie left a week ago, leaving (y/n) to have all of her nights free, only to waste them sitting here. Sometimes she really hated sitting here.
But most nights you’d find her here anyways. Cigarette between her fingers and a more than disappointed look on her face. More than once one of their friends would come down late at night in hopes of keeping her company. But not even Beverly could comfort the girl. She was lost, and she was stuck here.
It was nice tonight, which was unusual for Derry. It was still August-hot, but there was a cool breeze in the air tonight that would occasionally make goosebumps rise on her skin.
Richie’s jacket was two sizes too big, and had slumped off her shoulders to hang at her elbows. But now it was chilly enough that she pulled the material back up so that it covered her properly. Tears sprung in her eyes as she wrapped it tightly across her chest, and buried her nose into the cotton.
(It still smelled like pot and mint and the body spray Richie used to wear to try to cover the smell of pot)
She stumped out her cigarette, even if she had only taken three puffs. And then shut her eyes to try and force back the tears.
Saying goodbye to Richie at the airport was probably the hardest thing she’s ever done, and she didn’t even say a single important thing. “Go fuck it up out there, California’s lucky to have you, babe. See ya at Christmas” she wished she could retract every single one of those words. Tell him she loves him, and beg him to stay.
But it would’ve been wrong to ask that of him, to make him give up his dream just for her.
That doesn’t mean that she didn’t regret saying something before he left, though.
“Alright kid, I’ll send you a postcard when I’m settled” Richie had told her. And with a ruffle of her hair and a kiss on her cheek, he was walking off to airport security, leaving her standing in the corridor, and trapping her in Derry.
He didn’t know that by him leaving, she would be stuck here. She didn’t see it coming either, but a week later it had dawned on her that there was nowhere else for her to go. Nowhere to escape, or even travel to.
And she was flaking on her friends so much she soon wouldn’t have them anymore. By the end of this week, she was pretty sure she’d only have Richie’s jacket and a pack of cigarettes she can never get herself to finish.
She pulled the pack out of her pocket, cupping the little red box that read Marlboro in her hands as if it were something more precious than it is. After gazing at it for a few longing, heart broken moments, she chucked it onto the ground behind her.
Fuck the ten dollars she spent on those cigarettes that she was never going to smoke.
“Well that’s a fucking waste” A voice snickered.
She almost fell off the bridge, and she would’ve had she not thrown her legs over and behind her so she could spin around and face Richie Tozier, who was standing right there in the middle of the bridge, looking like he was a figment of her imagination.
This is probably what led her to calling out his name softly, just to test if he was actually there.
He grins, shrugging his shoulders and stuffing his hands into his pockets. He starts to make a comment about how fucking chilly it got here and asking how she could just sit here in this weather, but she cuts him off with her own, much more pressing, question.
“What are you doing here?”
She’s murmuring, still worried that he isn’t even real, because there’s just no way he’s standing in front of her right now. He’s supposed to be five thousand miles away, not five feet.
“Well, hopefully picking you up” He tells her, and she smiles at him, and hops off of the railing she’d been perched on.
“Okay,” She agrees without hesitation. “Where are we going?”
He looks away for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face that baffled the girl. She could always tell what he was thinking, what he was about to say. But maybe the week they’d spent apart had put a damper on her powers, because she couldn’t figure him out in this moment.
A crease settles between her brows, and she cocks her head to the side a bit. It’s not the first time that Richie’s baffled her, but it sure seems important this time around. Especially since he’s not supposed to be here.
“I was thinking… um… Los Angeles?”
Her jaw drops open, but no sound comes out. She’s staring at him, wide eyed, blank minded. She knew there should have been a million things running through her head, but it was like all her trains of thought had derailed and crashed into one another, causing her brain to just turn to static.
She must have been silent for too long, because Richie leaned his head forward a bt, expectantly.
“Well?” He asked, his nerves seeping into his voice.
(He thought she’d either straight up reject him, or jump into his arms out of excitement. So far she’d done neither and it was starting to make him anxious)
“Okay” She whispers at first, soft, and a bit unsure.
“Okay?” He repeats, and she nods, a smile slowly forming on her lips the more she thinks it over.
She nods a bit faster, repeating the word over and over until he embraces her in his arms and picks her up off the ground to hold her even closer and tighter.
“Okayokayokayokayokay” She’s mumbling hastily against his chest, as though to convince him she was absolutely certain.
“Alright, I get it,” Richie laughs, and sets her dow, but he keeps his hands on her shoulders. “You really want to come back with me?” He asks, and she nods her head and rocks on her feet excitedly.
“Absolutely” She says.
His grin is larger than life, and his hands cup her face.
He’s about to ask her something, or maybe say something inappropriate, but she doesn’t care. She leans up and places her lips against his.
(In all honesty, she couldn’t wait any longer)
When she leaned back down to stand flat on her feet, he followed her so he didn’t have to disconnect their lips. Her mouth curved into a smile against his, and it wasn’t until he felt something wet against his cheeks that he parted from her.
She was crying.
Richie’s brows furrowed, because she was smiling, but there were tears streaming down her face, seemingly nonstop.
“Damn, am I that bad of a kisser?” He asked, knowing full well that that’s not why she was crying.
(y/n) let out a choked laugh, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around his neck. She sniffles while Richie tries to wipe away her tears with the pads of his thumbs, and his eyes don’t stray away from hers.
“I love you” She said softly, and her voice cracked from the tears.
Richie grinned, and pecked her lips before finally releasing her face.
“I love you too, sweets,” He said, and her heart melted into chocolate at how gentle and affection he sounded. “Not gonna leave you behind okay?” He asks, pressing his nose into her temple as he holds her in his arms. “Forever, from here on out?”
She nods, and hugs him back tighter.
“Forever, from here on out” She repeats.
They stand there like that for a few moments, enjoying the peace between them. One week had felt so much longer. She squeezed him tighter.
“We fly back tomorrow” He says, and she practically springs out of his arms.
“Tomorrow?” She screeches. “Richie Tozier you’ve given me less than a day to pack- and- and to tell my parents that I’m moving across the country and say goodbye to our friends?”
He’s laughing, even though she’s losing her mind.
“We have to go! We need to go right now!” She shouts at him, and grabs his hand to pull him along towards her house. “You know we’re gonna lie right?” She asks. “We’re gonna tell them that I’m going to school there”
“And you won’t be?”
“I don’t fucking know Richie, and I don’t have the time to figure that out right now!”
He’s still laughing, and she should probably be upset with him, but she just can’t be. Her adrenaline is pumping too fast and she’s far too excited to really care that Richie only gave her like twelve hours to jump into the biggest decision of her life.
(The easiest decision of her life)
He interlaces their fingers and convinces her to stop for a minute, because he forgot something and wants to go back.
“Richie if you pick up those cigarettes I swear to god-”
But he doesn’t pick up the Marlboros. Instead he pulls out a pocket knife, crouches down to an empty space on the carved up wood.
For as long as she’d lived in Derry, (which was her whole life) the Kissing Bridge had been a place where couples go to carve their initials into, and the action was often followed by a kiss, at least, those were the rumors (y/n) had heard growing up.
Seeing Richie carving their initials into the wood was something she’d never expected from him, he wasn’t exactly the cheesy romantic type, but it made her heart thump thump thumpthumpthumpthump in her chest.
He turned to her after he dusted off the wood shavings, presenting his work to her with a proud smile.
She walked over to him, crouched down to meet his level, and kissed his cheek.
“You’re a dork, babe,” She says with the prettiest, and his new favorite, smile. “Come on, let’s go”
He kisses her cheek back, and then pecks her lips just cause he feels like it, and then with one last swift kiss to her nose, he stands and takes her hand to pull her with him this time as they head off to her house.
(She’s not running this time. Instead, she just takes her time and walks alongside him)
She rests her head against his arm and she just can’t wipe the smile off her face. Her parents are sure to disown her when she tells them she’s leaving tomorrow, but she simply couldn’t be bothered.
This was everything she’d ever wanted, I was just too bad that it took so long for her to figure out.
[ look at the sky tonight, all of those stars have a reason ]
xoxo ~ jordie
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Insecurities - Richie Tozier
word count: 4319
summary: Richie’s greatest fear is not being good enough for her- and It knows to use that against him
Richie Tozier loved his girlfriend. He idolized her, he prioritized her, and every day that he was with her felt like a miracle. She was his favorite person, the light of his life, and he was so goddamn in love with her that it consumed his entire being.
Thing was, (y/n) was out of his league, and his friends and peers reminded him of it, every, fucking, day. Either with a joke about how he landed a girl like that, or a comment about how she’ll find someone better too. His friends weren’t purposefully being assholes, and they never knew how deep their words could cut into Richie. But he’d never told them how insecure he really was.
(y/n) never thought anything of it. She loved Richie and that’s all that mattered. He made her happier than she ever could have imagined herself being in this town. In this dreary place she lived, he managed to be a ray of spontaneity and sun that she was grateful for every day. She longed to tell him how much she loved him, she’d never gathered the courage to say it before, but always felt the words burning in her throat. She knew her friends were teasing, and never second guessed them or Richie’s feelings about it.
That is, until Neibolt.
“This, is a bad fucking idea” Richie had muttered into her ear when they’d walked onto the property.
She wasn’t sure if it was out of annoyance for wasting a day that they could have spent at the arcade, or out of his own fear for trekking into the obviously haunted house.
If it was fear, she knew he wouldn’t say anything about it. So instead, she grabbed his hand and gave him a smile.
“But it’ll make for a great story!” She’d declared.
(She has a tendency to reprimand him on his idiotic ideas, and he always argued that he would have a good story to tell later. So when she repeated his words back to him, he glared a bit)
(y/n) winked, before giggling because Richie always made a funny face when she winked at him. After dating her for a year or so, he has never gotten used to the sight of her winking at him.
But then again, a part of him was still in disbelief that she was his girlfriend and she was winking at him.
He tugged her closer to his side by her hand as they walked into the house.
“Oh, gross” Eddie winced, and continued to complain the further they walked into the hall.
The clubs’ steps gradually slowed.
“What the fuck?” Richie hissed, eyes narrowing while he looked around. “This is a fucking crackhouse-“
He stopped abruptly when there was a loud creaking, and the whole group froze in place. They went silent, ears on alert for the next haunting sound.
Richie’s hand tightened around (y/n’s), making sure that she was secure at his side. She looked up at him, brows furrowed a bit, clearly conflicted about Bill’s plan.
Another creak sounded, and her eyes shot towards the sound, just in time to see a door slowly swinging open. To their surprise, no one, or nothing, appeared in the doorway. It only revealed an empty room.
When Mike took a few tentative steps towards it, (y/n’s) feet also began to move, as if on instinct, her brain told her not to let her friend investigate alone.
“(y/n)” Richie called for her in a hushed voice as she pulled her hand out of his hold.
She glanced back at him as if to say ‘I’m alright’, and then moved swiftly on the tips of her toes up to Mike. They shared a look, before nodding their heads, and walking into the room.
As she examined the old run-down bedroom, she felt her heartbeat steady, as did her breathing. The floorboards were worn and creaky, and the walls had indescribable stains on them, but there was nothing more to it.
“It’s just old” Mike said, a similar expression of relief on his face.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” (y/n) looked back out to their friends to assure them that they were safe. “It was nothing-“
Before the word could even leave her mouth, the door creaked again, and slammed shut before anyone could move.
“(y/n)!” Richie was the first to leap to action, but by the time he’d gotten to the door, it was already locked. And no matter how much he yanked and pulled on the rusty knob, it would not budge.
She was pounding her fists against the other side of it, and from the sounds of it, he was pretty sure Mike was trying to kick the door down from the other side.
“(y/n)! (y/n) it’s gonna be fine! I’m gonna get you out!” RIchie hollered, enlisting in the help of Bill and Beverly in trying to kick open the door.
But even as everyone was kicking, it was no use. The door would rattle in it’s frame, and not crack even a little bit.
“It’s It!” Beverly declared, trying to get the boys to halt in their frantic kicking before they hurt themselves. “Guys- Richie- we won’t be able to break it open, it’s like- cursed, or something”
He didn’t want to give up that fast, he wanted to keep kicking this door until his shoes were worn through and his feet were bruised, until (y/n) was free.
“It’s alright!” (y/n) called from the room. “Mike found a part of the wall that’s caved in, we’re gonna try to break through it to the other side of the hall, okay?”
“W-we’ll meet you o-over there” Bill said, already heading around the corner of the hallway with Stan. Even though it was clear she’d only been informing one person.
“Richie,” She spoke again. “Go on, I’ll be fine, Mike’s here with me, I’ll see you in a couple minutes, okay?”
She was trying so hard to keep her voice brave, but he could hear it begin to crack, even through the door.
“I’m not fucking leaving you-”
“Richie, go, I don’t want you standing alone out there,” (y/n) ordered. “I gotta go help Mike with the wall, see you in a minute”
He could barely hear her footsteps take off, and then leaned forward to press his ear against the wood, hoping to hear them breaking through with ease. But now he couldn’t hear a thing.
Richie spun around, about to alert Eddie and Ben how oddly enough he couldn’t hear their friends tearing through a wall.
But Eddie and Ben weren’t there.
“Guys?” Richie hollered, breaking into a jog in hopes to catch them around the corner, where Mike and (y/n) were supposed to meet everyone.
But no one was there either.
“Hello!? Guys!? Where’d you go!?”
He began to yell a bit louder now, rushing around anywhere he could in search of his friends, but he hadn’t found, or even heard anyone. How had they abandoned him so fast? Didn’t they notice?
“Richie?” A scratchy but familiar voice called from behind him.
He turned on his heel and was instantly relieved at the sight of (y/n).
“Oh, thank fucking god” He breathed out heavily, taking swift steps towards her.
She, however, took a sharp step backwards.
“Don’t come any closer” She snapped, and Richie froze on the spot.
“Stay the fuck back!” She screeched now, so loud that the harsh words echoed down the halls. They seemed to ring in Richie’s ears for a lifetime.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asked worriedly. But he did as she asked, and didn’t move any closer to her. “Did something happen-?”
“Jesus Richie fuck off!” She snarled now, and if that wasn’t shocking enough, she stormed up to him, and shoved him against his chest with both hands, mustering all the force she could.
Richie stumbled until he tripped over his feet and fell to the ground. He couldn’t believe she was strong enough to push him to the ground like that. (y/n) wasn’t frail by any means, but she shouldn’t have been able to knock him down with such ease.
“Blabber and hover- blabber and hover with you!” She was yelling down at him now, and Richie pushed himself up on shaky arms.
This was incredibly unlike her-
“You can never just leave me the hell alone! Can you!?” She went on, voice booming unnaturally with each bark. “Always on my ass, always crowding me!”
If he wasn’t so afraid, he would have noticed how with every word, her teeth turned more ragged, and sharper.
“Do you think I enjoy it? Being stuck with you? It’s a goddamn burden! I can’t stand to be around you- I fucking hate you Richie Tozier!”
“Y-you’re not- this isn’t-” He could barely speak his throat was burning so bad from holding back tears.
This couldn’t be (y/n)... (y/n) would never…
“What, I’m not real?” The word came out in a vicious snarl, and suddenly she warped into another figure.
He wasn’t sure if this one was worse.
“You piece of shit!” Henry Bowers barked. “Haven’t I told you to stay the fuck out of this town!?”
Richie lunged himself backwards, trying to crawl away from this horrible nightmare as fast as possible. But the more he tried to scurry away, the worse the image in front of him became.
“You’re a freak!” (y/n) screamed in his face again. “You’re a loser, Richie. You think anyone would want to be with you?”
He couldn’t breathe- the tears- the panic- it all welled up inside of him and he knew he was going to explode soon.
“This isn’t real, you’re not real, you’re not her”
“Aren’t I though?” Her voice dropped to a haunting whisper, and she leaned in close to him. “Aren’t I!?” She screamed.
Richie closed his eyes, shaking his head rapidly and hoping that when he opened them again, she’d be gone, and he’d wake up in his bedroom. This was just one terrible fucking nightmare, it’ll be over soon-
“The real (y/n) doesn’t have the guts to fucking tell you” She snarled, reminding him of his reality.
“Stop it!” Richie yelled, unable to hold back his tears any longer.
“She’s never been able to speak up and say-”
“Go away!” He begged, voice cracking in desperation.
“She knows she’s too good for you, and let’s face it fuckface, I am too good for you”
He didn’t have it in him to beg It to leave him alone, as he broke down sobbing into his hands, enduring the cuel wrath.
“She hates you, for dragging her down, for hanging off of her like a dog,” Her tone slowly warped into something more squeaky, and masculine, until she wasn’t exactly the image of (y/n) anymore. “Ohhh… she haaates you Richie”
When he dared to look, he was met with the gruesome sight of a circus clown. A rather large circus clown.
“But you can stay, Richie, you can float with us!”
“No- no…. no no no!”
He covered his face again as he pleaded and wept uncontrollably. He wished that It would just get it over with, because he couldn’t take this torture anymore.
“Richie!” A voice screamed. Not the scream that he’d heard just moments ago, but a worried shriek.
Even still, he kept his hands planted safely over his eyes. It couldn’t get in his face if he couldn’t see the form it had taken.
“Richie- Richie,” The voice panted again, this time soft, and close to his ear. “Hey, it’s me” She murmured.
Gentle hands grasped onto his wrists, and pulled on his arms until he revealed his face.
He was met with the concerned eyes of his girlfriend, her brow so furrowed there were lines on her forehead, and a pout on her lips that he’d never seen there before.
“Babe,” She whispered so soft he was certain that he’d imagined that too. “What happened?”
He flinched when she reached for him, and the action shattered her heart to pieces, but she tried her best not to show it. Tentatively, she reached her hand out to place against his cheek, pulling her sleeve over her palm to wipe away the flow of tears.
“You’re- are you-”
“I’m real,” She nodded, beginning to realize what had happened. “It’s me, promise”
His eyes wandered her features unsurely, and she sighed.
“Do you want me to prove it?” She murmured, and began to speak before he could even nod his head. “On our first date, you called me sweet cheeks, and then got so embarrassed about it that you tripped and dropped your ice cream” There was a weak smile on her lips at the memory, hoping that it would be enough to calm Richie down.
He let out a shaky whimper, before surging forward and wrapping his arms around her torso. He held her so tightly that she had to control her breaths, but it was alright because he believed her and things were going to be okay.
“It’s alright,” She cooed into his ear as he cried into the crook of her neck. “I know, it’s awful”
One of his hands cradled the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair. The other was fisting the material of her jacket. He couldn’t speak, he was crying so hard, ut it was enough to know that she was here right now.
(y/n) rubbed his back in soothing circles as she held him for a few moments longer, until she knew it was time to go, and pulled away.
“Come on, we gotta get out of here,” She whispered, wiping his opposite cheek tenderly. “Eddie broke his arm” She told him as she helped him to his feet, and intertwined their fingers as they raced out of Neibolt.
The others, besides Eddie, were standing in the front yard.
Eddie was being shoved into his mother’s car, while Mrs K was scolding their friends.
“I knew my boy shouldn’t be playing with the likes of you all,” She rambled, snarling at Beverly in particular. “This is all your fault. All your fault! I hope your proud of yourselves for maiming my boy!”
She stormed off to her car, and Eddie could barely wave out the window before she’d driven off.
“I know where It is,” Bill spoke after a beat passed. “And n-next time we’ll come p-prepared”
Richie’s eyes widened before glaring at the boy, finding it ridiculous that he thought it was a good idea to not only come back, but to come back and retaliate.
“No next time, Bill!” Stan begged, shaking his head.
“We have to,” Beverly said. “Ben, you said so yourself, It comes back every twenty-seven years-”
“Fine! I’ll be forty and far away from here!” He answered.
With his words, a layer of tension settled over the group.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t save Georgie,” Richie grumbled, pulling away from (y/n) to head to his bike. “But you can still save yourself” He finished, brushing past Bill’s shoulder.
“N-no,” Bill stammered, pushing Richie back by the shoulder. “T-take it back!”
“Face the truth, Bill! You’re chasing a lie-!”
He couldn’t even finish before Bill pushed harder, and swing a fist against Richie’s cheek.
“Bill!” (y/n) screeched, leaping forward to break them up before something could happen.
She grabbed Richie by the elbow before he could land a punch, and yanked him back while Mike grabbed a secure hold on Bill.
“Face it! We’re losers! That’s it!” Richie snarled.
He shrugged (y/n’s) hold off of him, and her eyes shot to his, broken, and hurt.
“I’m going home. I don’t want to get fucking killed too” He muttered, and when he stormed off to his bike, Bill didn’t stop him this time.
“R-Richie?” (y/n) called brokenly, stumbling forward on wobbly legs, but it didn’t matter, he was already zooming down the street as fast as he could.
Before she could crumpe to the ground, Beverly grabbed a hold of her, hugging her against her side comfortingly.
It was silent as everyone dispersed, barely giving each other a second glance as they rode off.
Beverly hugged (y/n) tight before she got on the back of Bill’s bike. Murmuring a soft, ‘see you later’ that (y/n) wasn’t quite convinced of.
She didn’t have the energy in her to bike home, but the only other option was to sit outside Neibolt, alone, and the sun was beginning to set, so she gathered what little strength she had left in her to slowly make her way home.
When she came home past dinner, covered in muck and bruises, her parents barely batted an eye. Even as she let out a soft cry with every step up the stairs, it was like they tuned her out completely.
It had thrown her around like a ragdoll after she tried to defend Eddie. As brave as she’d tried to be, she’d been terrified, shaking straight down to the bone as she forced herself to stand in front of him.
The demonic clown had simply swing an arm, and sent her tumbling across the ground.
It took a long shower to get all the dirt scraped off her skin. But even as it was washed down the drain, the memories of this afternoon would haunt her for life.
Maybe Bill was right. Maybe It needed to be stopped now, before he could just keep coming back and traumatizing a new generation of children every thirty or so years. But even if she really wanted to kill the creature, she wouldn’t even know where to begin. And her brain was already swarmed with a worse thought,
Was Richie done with me?
She sniffled a bit at the idea, but wiped her eyes before they could be filled with tears.
No, he was just angry, and scared, he would never… he wouldn’t just leave like that… would he?
A few knocks on her window made her jolt up in bed, nerves spreading throughout her body like electricity. She instantly thought that It had found her, and was back to finish what he’d started.
But as she rushed to turn on the lamp sitting on her bedside table, her muscles relaxed to see it was only Richie, waiting rather impatiently for her to unlock her window.
She threw the covers off of her, and moved as quickly as she could to let him in.
As soon as she pushed the window upwards, he was crawling in, oddly silent.
“Hey,” She murmured, not wanting to alert her parents downstairs that her boyfriend had snuck in.
He’d done so a million times before, and they’ve never gotten caught, but today was a rather awful day and she didn’t want to have one more thing ruined.
“Are you feeling be-”
“We need to talk” Richie mumbled, effectively cutting her off with the upsetting words.
“O-Okay…” (y/n) answered, trying not to jump to conclusions. “What… about..?” She asked slowly.
“I think-” He started to speak quickly, but just couldn’t seem to finish the sentence.
He couldn’t even look her in the eyes.
“We- we should- we need to break up”
It was like her heart plummeted right out of her body, sending every nerve to go numb. She had to have heard him wrong- this wasn’t like Richie- maybe this wasn’t even the real-
“I- I want to break up” He added in an even quieter voice. She caught the crack in his words, and she shook her head in confusion.
“What?” She could barely manage to say the one word.
“I know you heard me,” Richie sighed, eyes finally flickering up to hers. “Come on (y/n) don’t make this any more difficult than it-”
“You’re the one being difficult!” She whisper-hissed, eyes widening a bit in frustration. “What are you doing? Wh- why are you-”
“Come on,” Richie whispered. “Don’t do that-”
“Give me one reason why we should break up” (y/n) crossed her arms. She wasn’t going to let him walk away that easy. Something was up, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.
“We’re not a good fit, alright?” He answered, volume raising a bit above his previous murmur. “We don’t work, and I was a fucking idiot to think that we would”
“Richie…” (y/n) sighed in disbelief.
“You wanted an answer-”
“Where is this coming from?” She asked with a shake of her head. “I know you don’t really want to break up-”
“Well we have to!” He yelled, and they were both silent for a minute, trying to see if her parents had heard him.
When there was no response from downstairs, she snapped back at him.
“Why?” She stressed the word, desperate for him to just fess up whatever it was that was bothering him.
“Why? Do you even have to ask, (y/n)?” Richie asked.
Her eyebrows knitted together as he spoke in such a harsh tone. Richie never talked to her like that.
“Look at me, (y/n)! I mean, come on, it was only a fucking matter of time before you got bored and realized how much of your time you’ve wasted on me!”
If she’d thought him trying to break up was horrible, this was even worse.
“I’m a loser, (y/n), don’t you see that? Don’t you see how terrible for you I am?”
He was breaking her heart with every word.
“Haven’t you heard them? What people say? What our own friends say?” He asks her, but she doesn’t answer, because she can’t. “I am dragging you down with every second of being with you”
“N-no-” She can’t hardly choke out the word, but Richie vents on anyways.
“Might as well just end things now, before one of us gets hurt”
He turns around, as if to head back out her window, but (y/n’s) faster. She wedges herself in between his body, shutting and locking the window before he could just walk away.
“No, s-stop running away,” She cried, and when she looks up at him, she realizes that he can’t look at her because he’s crying too. “Richie,” She whimpers, shaky hands reaching up to cup his face, making him look down at her. “That’s not true, none of that is true-”
“It is” He replies, brokenly.
She shakes her head, and steps closer to him.
“It lied to you,” She tells him. “I know It probably told you some terrible, nasty things,”
Richie squeezes his eyes shut, and the next thing he knows, he’s falling to his knees. But (y/n) follows, kneeling down with him and shuffling even closer.
“But babe,” She murmured, “It was lying, it was all a trick”
She could feel his tears slipping down his cheeks and over her fingers.
“I just- I don’t want to drag you down-”
“Drag me down?” She repeats in a whisper, thumbs stroking away his tears once more. “Richie,” His eyes open when she says his name, soft and sweet-like.
She pushes his glasses up on top of his mess of curls so she can swipe away the tears under his eyes.
“You do nothing but lift me up,” She tells him. “You’re my ray of sunshine in this terrible fucking town,” An anxious and uncertain smile trembles on her lips. “And all those things you’re so worried about, I love about you,”
There’s a pause as her eyes flicker between his, before gently placing his glasses back on his nose.
“I’m in love with you,” She murmurs. “I love you so much,” She repeats in a sigh, just in case he didn’t hear her the first time. “So much”
A short breath of a laugh escapes him, and a small smile begins to tug on his lips as he looks at her. He knows she means it, he can feel it, he can see it in her eyes that she’s being genuine.
He takes her hands from his face, setting them gently in her lap before cupping her face in his own hands.
“I love you too” He tells her, and before he can lean in, she’s shooting forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting her lips on his firmly.
It’s unlike any other kisses they’ve shared. It’s desperate, and careful, and loving, and conveyed every last drop of fear that they’d had in losing each other. She’s kissing him so passionately that her chest is heaving, but she can’t bear to pull away now.
Richie holds her in his lap, and she’s wrapped up in his arms so securely that she’s sure, and she hopes, she’ll never be able to get out of them.
When her lips are swollen and her lungs are burning for oxygen, she finally leaned back slightly, but only by a few centimeters.
“You can’t leave me,” She tells him through heavy breaths. Her eyes are still closed, but he’s staring intently at her anyways. “I need you too much- don’t leave me”
He nods in agreement, caressing her cheek affectionately.
“Okay,” He hums, and kisses her lips chastely. “I won’t… I won’t”
She falls forward, and embraces him tightly.
Richie’s arms wind around her lower back again, and they sit for a long time like this, catching their breath and holding onto one another firmly, so that neither can leave.
“We have to go back” Richie says after a long time.
“I know” She murmurs against his neck.
“We have to kill that fucking clown” He says, voice dropping it’s gentle tone, turning hard, and final.
“I know” She repeats, the same vengeful tone in her own voice.
Nothing was ever going to come between them again, that was for sure.
xoxo ~ jordie
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Bite Me - Mike Wheeler
word count: 4052
warnings: swearing, unedited and poorly written
summary: Mike has harbored a crush on (y/n) since the day they met. And all it takes is a run-in with Billy Hargrove for him to lose his shit and let his feelings be known.
(a/n): I just randomly felt the need to write for one of my best boys
(y/n) (y/l/n) was a sweet girl. If you asked anyone they’d tell you how kind she is, to everyone she meets. From giving out homework answers when someone forgot, to sharing her lunch, she’d lend a hand no matter who you were. She was a good person, and that’s why Mike was so in love with her.
He had been ever since she’d joined the Party, back in the fourth grade. She’d been bringing in an extra juice box and snack for two weeks, just for Will, and the four boys agreed unanimously to offer her a spot in their group. Mike can still remember the look on her face, the wide grin that showed off her recently lost tooth, and the way she’d giggled and agreed instantly.
They taught her D&D, she was invited into Will’s fort, and taken in by Joyce as one of her own. She was truly one of them.
She didn’t look at him like everyone else did, it’s one of the first things he’d noticed about her, and he could see it every time their eyes met. That annoyed expression that he was used to receiving -from peers, from his parents, even Nancy, even their friends- he’d grown so accustomed to it, until he’d met her.
“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Mike was shouting, about to lunge towards Steve, before (y/n) and Dustin grabbed his arms to yank him back. “We can’t just stay here and-”
“That’s exactly what we’re doing!” Steve shouted back, shoving a scolding finger in the younger boy’s face. “We’re staying here, so I can keep you dipshits safe!”
Steve rolled his eyes before spinning around to leave. Nothing stressed him out like these kids.
“Come on, we’ll figure something else out” (y/n) said quietly, and tugged on Mike’s arm a little more.
His glare softened when he turned to her.
She nods her head off to the side, prompting him to walk off with her. He groaned, but he followed when she pulled him towards the living room. Her hand didn’t let go of his wrist until they were away from everyone else.
“You know nothing you could say right now is gonna make me less pissed off-”
“I know,” (y/n) giggles before he can start ranting again. “But maybe you can just take a breath and pretend to calm down?” She hums, and she laughs again.
Mike groans loudly, loud enough that everyone in the house could hear him, before he threw himself down onto the sofa.
(y/n) just shook her head, and sat next to him.
“Steve’s just trying to keep us safe, Mike,” She says, voice just as soft, but a bit more serious now. “He’s not doing this to make you mad, you get that, right?”
He nods, but hangs his head in his hands.
“Are you… um… upset because El’s out there?” She asked unsurely.
She had a pretty good feeling that Mike had a crush on Eleven. He was distraught when she left, and since she’d come back (a few hours ago) he’s been extremely on edge. Hence the pouting right now.
“I guess,” He shrugged. “I just- I want to just-”
“I know,” (y/n) murmurs again. “I get it”
She admired Mike’s need to help, to get involved. He was brave, if not a little reckless as well. But there was something sweet about his extreme need to help. Even though she was still convinced he was only wired this way because of his crush on Eleven.
Mike looked over to her, finding that loving look on her face. His favorite expression -maybe even his favorite thing- and it somehow calmed him down a bit. She smiled when he hadn’t started grumbling again.
“You good now?” She asked.
“Yeah,” He sighed. “I’ll be fine”
She grinned, and poked his cheek affectionately before getting up from the couch.
“I’m gonna get a glass of water and make sure Steve’s calmed down too,” She told him. “Guess I’m the only sane one around here”
He laughed a bit as she left the room.
“Steve?” (y/n) called gently as she approached her older friend.
He turned to her, an unamused, and rather annoyed, look on his face.
“I will be, once I’m in a retirement home and have restraining orders placed on all of you,” He answered, making the girl laugh. “Your boyfriend calm down yet?” He asked, and her laughter stopped almost instantly.
Steve was chuckling now at how red her cheeks were turning.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, heard it before, pretended to believe it before, whatever,” He said, and (y/n) busied herself with getting a drink. “Now’s as good a time as any to just, you know, confess. You’re stuck here anyways”
“No I… I can’t um…” She shakes her head, staring down at the bottle of water she’d grabbed from the fridge. “I can’t do that” She finished weakly.
Steve had known (y/n) for a few years now. He’d met her the first night he’d hung out with Nancy in the Wheeler home, she’d been there with Mike coming up with a new character for D&D. His first impression, as it was for all of the kids, was that she was a geek. And she was, but she was a lot of other things too, and what stood out the most to him was her kindness. She didn’t exactly fit in with the Party like the boys seemed to. Not only because she was a girl, but because she was… friendly.
Mike wasn’t cruel to Steve by any means, but he was a snarky little shit that sometimes made Steve just want to-
“Why the hell do you like that little asshole so much anyways?”
(y/n) was still blushing as she shrugged her shoulders.
He’d picked up on her little crush one of the first times she’d met him. He called her out on it right away too, luckily only Dustin had heard, and he’d laughed it off, thinking it was a joke.
“He’s such a piece of shit,” Steve said through a laugh, earning a pointed glare from (y/n). “Obviously he doesn’t treat you the same way he treats, well, everyone else”
“No, he doesn’t,” (y/n) sighed lovingly.
Her eyes glanced out to the living room, where Mike and Lucas were heatedly, and quietly, arguing. She rolled her eyes at the sight, not that it surprised her.
“He’s very, um-”
“Sweet on you?” Steve supplied, earning another look, which quickly turned into a nervous smile. “Yeah, that’s how I’d put it. I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it. He obviously has a little crush on you too,” Steve said, wagging his finger around in her face. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be such a little gentleman towards you”
(y/n) didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to for Steve to know how she felt. He’d always known. She didn’t do a great job at hiding it, but her friends, and Mike for that matter, were oblivious.
They were interrupted by a bright light shining in through the windows, bright enough that she shielded her eyes as she wandered out to the large picture window.
“Who is that?” She asked, as everyone gathered around to figure out who could show up at the Byers’ house right now.
Their question was quickly answered.
The angry, dangerous voice sent a shiver all the way down (y/n’s) spine, before an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. Billy Hargrove was bad news, but him being here, right now, was even worse.
“Stay inside” Steve ordered, shoving the kids down underneath the window.
“I know you’re in there!” Billy screamed again from outside.
“Stay inside” Steve repeated, before walking out of the house.
“What the fuck does he think he’s gonna do?” Lucas asked, as everyone peeked their heads up just enough so they could see what was going on outside.
“He’s gonna fight him” Dustin said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.
“He’ll lose,” Max mumbled. All eyes turned to her, but her gaze was trained on her brother, afraid. “He’ll kill him”
“He’ll be okay,” (y/n) whispered to her new friend. “Steve’s a tough guy, and can throw a punch-”
“I’m not so sure he can take one, though” Max said.
(y/n) frowned, and set a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“We’ll be alright” She assured, even though she wasn’t certain what was going to happen.
Steve was now walking down to Billy, who was still yelling, but they couldn’t make out what exactly.
“What’s he saying?” Mike hissed, only to get shushed by Dustin, thus starting a ‘shh!’ war.
(y/n) only let it go on until Billy shoved Steve back by his shoulders.
“Boys!” She scolded, sitting up a little straighter as the fight outside escalated.
Just as she’d sat up, Mike grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back down.
“You want to get seen and murdered?” He whisper screamed. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her sweet smile. His brow furrowed at her smile, but he wasn’t quick enough to say anything about it, as everyone’s attention was pulled back to the scene outside.
Billy had shoved Steve to the ground, and was racing up to the house now. He locked eyes with the Party, who all quickly leaned down as low to the floor as they could get.
“Lucas, run!” Max screamed, shoving the boy to haul ass before her brother could storm in and get his hands on him.
When the door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall, Mike grabbed (y/n) by both arms and just about ripped them out of their sockets as he pulled her upwards with him to get her as far fucking away from Billy as possible.
“We have to help Lucas!” She tried telling him while he dragged her off to the other side of the house. “Mike!” She shoved his hands off of her, and gave him a pleading look. “This isn’t like you, come on, he needs our-”
“Where are you, Sinclair!? Come on out!”
She ran away from Mike before he could convince her to hide.
Finding Lucas shoved up against the wall, something in her clicked. Billy’s significantly larger framed towered over the boy, who was clearly afraid, while Billy snarled nasty things right in his face.
“Why don’t you just fuck off?” She yelled at him, before thinking through the consequences of her actions.
Dustin and Mike stared at her in shock. She didn’t curse much, so to hear the foul word come out in her voice was… pretty out of character.
Just as Billy whirled around, likely about to send one knockout punch to her face, Lucas took his moment of distraction to knee him right between the legs. (y/n) squealed, both hands covering her mouth in surprise.
It was then that she took Mike’s advice to run back into the kitchen, and duck down behind the cabinets so she was out of sight.
“You’re fucking dead!” Billy howled in pain, and while every bone in (y/n’s) body told her to cover her ears, close her eyes, and stay hidden, she peeked around the corner anyways.
“No,” A different voice, a calm voice, a familiar voice, spoke up.
(y/n) had never been so relieved to see Steve in her whole life.
“You are” He finished, and took a strong swing of his fist against Billy’s jaw.
The crack that resonated made her wince, and she shut her eyes only for a moment as illy toppled backwards. He didn’t fall, and instead swung back at Steve, starting a very violent fistfight in the Byers’ kitchen.
“Come on, you gotta move” A pair of arms encircled her torso and helped her up from the ground.
Mike’s hands were much more gentle with her now than they had been a few minutes ago, and this time she let him bring her out to the living room, away from the fight.
Her eyes were wide with fear as she watched Billy throw Steve around the kitchen effortlessly. It was terrifying, she felt as though she was about to see him get killed.
When he landed a rather harsh punch, right under Steve’s chin, she cried out for him.
Steve crumbled to the ground, definitely knocked unconscious. He looked dead, though, and as the thought crossed her mind, she felt it again. The snap. Like an instinct buried deep was just let loose.
“You motherfucking piece of shit!” She screamed in a way that Mike, or any of them, had ever heard before, and was charging at Billy in an instant.
It was a hasty decision, grabbing the beautiful vase of flowers off of Joyce Byers’ table and throwing it full force at the back of Billy’s head.
While his head was soaked, and definitely bleeding from the shards of glass, he still managed to stay standing, and was fuming with anger as he glared down at (y/n).
“You made a big mistake little girl” He growled, and began to stalk towards her in a threatening manner.
“Bite me” She snarled back at him, followed by the rash decision to spit on him.
“(y/n) what the hell are you-!?”
Mike’s warning was cut off when Billy reached her, and she kicked him with all the force she could right in the gut. He grunted, but it hardly slowed him down. All she could see was red as she kicked him again, and began to throw her fists against his chest.
She didn’t have an ‘oh fuck’ moment until he grabbed her wrists in his large hands, and kept his hold so firm that tears welled in her eyes from the pressure.
“I’m gonna fucing kill you, little girl” He snarled, teeth bared right in her face.
She tried to yank her body backwards, out of his grip, but he was faster, and stronger, and bigger than her. This resulted in her being thrown, no, slammed into the nearest wall. She cried at the crack of her skull against it, but had no time to react as Billy’s fist was all she could see, before it struck her and knocked her out instantaneously.
She fell like a limp, broken thing, and even when Mike grabbed her and shook her by her shoulders, she remained unconscious. It didn’t matter that Billy was still looking for blood, he pulled her into his lap and held her close against his chest. He was living a delusion thinking he could protect either of them if Billy came back for more, but he didn’t care. He was gonna keep her safe now.
Max had plunged the syringe into her brother’s neck, and was threatening him with Steve’s bat, but Mike hardly paid them any attention.
“(y/n), wake up, come on,” His voice was barely a mumble, and he hated to admit it but his throat was growing hot and tight with his tears choking him up. “C-come on open your eyes” He stuttered.
He pushed her hair out of her face so that it wouldn’t get sticky from the blood running out of her nose. He wiped away the red substance with his sleeve, not bothered by it at all.
“We’re going!” Lucas called, and rushed over to Mike to help him carry her. “Dustin Will and Max are getting Steve in the back. I’ll help you with her”
Mike didn’t have time to question anything Lucas had just said, and hastily went along with the plan. They looped (y/n’s) arms over both of their shoulders, and made their way out to Billy’s car.
It was the first thing that (y/n) was aware of when she came to. Her legs, her arms, her torso, her head-
Oh shit my head hurts.
She groaned softly, reaching a shaky hand up to prod around her eye. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was definitely bruised. The rest of her body had to have been bruised too.
She suddenly shot upward as the car went over a bump, and that’s when she realized she was even in a car. Why was she in a car…?
Her head rolled against the seat, and she was met with someone’s shoulder against her cheek. She winced at the pressure, probably because her cheek was bruised and bleeding.
“(y/n)?” A gentle, but distant voice called. It sounded kind of hazy, like the person talking was miles away, and not right next to her. “Hey, can you hear me?”
Her eyes met Mike’s round and worried brown ones, and a lazy smile tugged on the edges of her lips. Even though his brow was furrowed, and there was a deep frown on his lips.
“What happened?” She asked, voice scratchy and quiet.
“What happened?” Mike repeated, much louder than he intended. She flinched, and while an apologetic look swept over his face, he didn’t apologize. “(y/n), you attacked Billy Hargrove” He told her in a grave tone.
“I did?” She asked proudly, her smile returning.
“No- don’t- jesus (y/n) what the hell are you on?” He asked. “He almost killed you, I mean, look at you!”
“Can you please stop yelling dipshit?” Max called from the front. “I’m trying to focus here!”
(y/n’s) eyes widened, and it dawned on her that Max was the one driving. But just as she opened her mouth to protest being in the car right now, Mike continued on with his angry little rant.
“I mean, seriously, what the hell, (y/n/n)? Did you think you were gonna win? Did you really think that you were gonna take him down?”
Her brow crinkled and her eyes welled with tears, both from all the pain and his cruel words.
“Do you even realize that he could’ve killed you? Huh? I mean, I really thought he did for a second. Do you even care?”
“What’s your problem right now?” The girl whimpered
“You are! You’re my problem,” He said, not thinking through the fact that she was crying right now. “That was really stupid (y/n), really reckless”
“Oh, because you care so much about playing it safe,” She scoffed.
It was getting awkward for the others in the car, minus Steve, who was still knocked out.
“All you wanted to do tonight was to get out there- well- well here we are, Mike!” She shouted. It hurt her head to yell, and Max was yelling again too, but she drowned it out. “Hope you’re freakin’ happy” She mumbled, holding her hands against the side of her head.
Mike sighed, and pulled her hands away from her face, staring at her seriously.
“(y/n)...” He said softly. “I’m sorry it’s just…” He let out one more heavy breath to prepare himself before diving in. “Look at yourself (y/n), you’re hurt and there’s- there’s nothing I can do about it”
(y/n’s) brow furrowed as she stared back at him.
“What do you mean?” She mumbled weakly.
“I mean I- you… I have to… ugh” He groaned, clearly frustrated by his inability to form a coherent thought.
“You have to… what?” She hummed, face leaning around his shoulder tiredly.
They were close enough that their whispers were only heard by them. And somehow, it felt like they were the only people in the car.
“Mike?” She whispered when he hadn’t said anything yet.
His eyes flickered over her battered face. The black eye, her split lip, her bruised and cut cheek, his heart broke looking at how much pain she must be in right now. He couldn’t believe he let this happen.
“...protect you” He answered lamely.
“Protect me?” She repeats, soft, and loving. “From what?”
“Apparently everything from interdimensional monsters to senior year bullies” He said, making her laugh softly.
“You don’t have to do that,” She said with a small shake of her head. “I’m alright, I will be anyways. You don’t have to worry so much about me-”
“See I do though- you- you make it impossible not to worry. I’m just always- I’m a mess, okay?”
She giggled again, and rose a brow.
“I’m not following…you sound kinda crazy Mike-”
“I love you, okay?” He told her.
“And I just need you to not get yourself hurt… okay?”
She’d never heard him speak so quietly, so nervously.
“You- you’re- um-”
“No more fighting people- and-and things- bigger than you, deal?”
His hands cupped around her face, thumb stroking over the bruise on her cheekbone in a comforting sort of way. She swore she was melting into his touch, for a moment she forgot all about the agony her body was in.
She didn’t think twice about leaning off his shoulder so she could reach up and plant her lips against his. It’s a gentle kiss, because her lips are sore and she was a bit nervous.
Mike’s eyes widened, and he was sure this wasn’t real. No, it couldn’t be real, there was no way (y/n) was kissing him. Maybe he was the one that got knocked out? And this is all some kind of twisted nightmare-dream?
But it was real, she was kissing him. And it was… wow it was great.
She’d almost pulled away, but he pulled her right back in, and shut his eyes to kiss her properly this time.
If he was being honest, he wanted nothing more than to just take her and pour every ounce of love he had for her into this kiss, but it would probably only hurt her more.
They were cut off by a low whistle, and (y/n) turned to see Steve, who had apparently been sat next to her this whole time, and Dustin, who was sat on his other side, both giving the pair very different looks.
Despite his face looking just as messed up as hers, Steve pulled a sly grin, and winked.
Dustin, however, looked like he might vomit.
“What. The. Fuck!?” His voice cracked when he screamed, making both (y/n) and Mike jump a bit in their seat. “You guys have been- been- hooking up this whole time!?”
“What? No!” (y/n) argued back, shaking her head and trying to kill the idea in Dustin’s head before it escalated, but it seemed to be too late for that.
“You have! You’ve been frenching!”
“Oh my god,” Mike rolled his eyes. “Dustin, shut up”
“Can we save this argument for later, fellas?” Max hollered from the front. “I don’t think that this is the most important thing going on-”
“W-wait a- wait a minute- wait a-!” Steve’s eyes widened as he started to panic. “No! No way! Stop the car right now! Who let her drive-!?”
His screaming was abruptly cut off by the car swerving, causing everyone to scream now.
“Drive on the right side of the road! Jesus Christ we’re all gonna die!”
(y/n) wrapped both arms around Mike, one behind his neck and the other around his torso, keeping her secure. In case this car were to crash, her seatbelt, and Mike, would anchor her in place. Well, she hoped it would anyways.
He reacted quickly, embracing her tightly.
“I’ve been thinking I would get killed by a demogorgon,” She mumbled to him. “Guess it’ll just be a plain old car crash that takes me out”
He chuckled, but shook his head at her.
“No one’s dying, we had a deal”
She glanced up at him, a sweet smile on her lips. And she waited for him to look back down at her to say anything.
“I love you too” She hummed, just soft enough that Dustin (luckily) couldn’t hear.
The smile that grew on Mike’s face was brighter than she’d ever seen from him before. (y/n) was so relieved that her feelings were returned, that she felt she could go back to sleep, if she wasn’t getting nervous all over again about what was going to happen.
All they had to do now was to kill a monster and save their friends.
xoxo ~ jordie
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Amnesia - Richie Tozier (part one)
word count: 979
warnings: some swearing
summary: loosely based on the song Amnesia by 5sos
[ i drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted // i thought about our last kiss, how it felt, the way you tasted ]
Derry, Maine, 1992
(y/n) giggled, and plopped down on the ground in one swift- well, it was a fall, she fell down.
“Holy shit!” The boy squealed, he didn’t mean to, but he was drunk, and worried she would topple backwards through the rickety kissing bridge. “Are you okay?”
She was giggling, and leaned up against a post of the bridge.
“I’m fine- Richie, I’m fine” She laughed even more at how serious he looked right now.
He crouched in front of her, a hand on her shoulder, the other holding the bottle of Jack that they’d been drinking out of for most of the night.
She grinned at him, a drunken sort of smile, while he swiveled around to sit right at her side.
“You’re so stupid. You could have died (y/n/n)” He says, trying to sound tough, but with her giggling it was hard not to smile and laugh with her.
“Whatever, dying on the kissing bridge don’t sound so bad,” She slurs her words a bit, but he can still understand her fine. “It is the happiest place in Derry, you know”
“The happiest?” Richie repeats with a scoff. “No no, you’ve got a screw loose if you think here is better than seven-eleven”
She lets out a loud laugh, buckling forward and holding her stomach.
Richie had a mind like no one else in this town, and that’s why she loved his company so much. He didn’t act like everyone else- he wasn’t a vapid background character, nor a monster friend of Henry’s. He was something completely different, all his own.
She looked over at him, admiring how his eyes sparkled a bit, the stars reflected in his dark irises, only to be magnified to the highest degree behind his coke-bottle lenses. Her eyes followed the slope of his nose, and then down to the curve of his- very pink? Have they always been so pink?- lips.
She hadn’t noticed yet that he was watching her, wondering why she was mapping out his features so intensely.
His curls were a mess, as they always had been. But they were soft, and right now all she could think about was combing her fingers through them. She’d played with Richie’s hair on more than one occasion. She’d brushed and pulled and braided and straightened- it was a favorite of hers. Her favorite thing to do- her favorite feature of his- she could curl the locks around her fingers for hours and never do anything with it.
“Alright, be honest,” Richie said, leaning a little closer to her, and bringing her gaze to his own.
A wave of nerves crashed over her at the heaviness of his tone. She shivered a little bit.
“Are you reading my mind right now?” Richie finally finished his thought.
“I said be honest!” Richie hissed, there was a certain fear in him, a drunken one, that she was staring at him and reading his thoughts. “Are, you, reading, my, mind?” He spoke slowly, thinking it might help her understand.
“Richie- no, I’m not reading your mind” (y/n) snorted, and leaned back a bit.
But he chased forward when she did, lessening the space between them once more.
“Really? Because you’re staring an awful lot and I just get this feeling that you’re reading my mi-”
“No… no I just really want to kiss you right now”
The truth came out before she could think it over, before she’d even processed the thought at all, actually.
“What?” Richie asked, but the grin on his face told her that he’d heard her fine. “Did you just say you wanna kiss me?”
“Um… yeah” She chuckled bashfully.
“Why?” He asked.
Had he been sober, he would’ve kissed her then and there.
She shrugged, and hummed an ‘I don’t know’ sound.
“Just...um…” She bit her lip as her eyes wandered away from his. “Always kinda… wanted to”
“You always kinda wanted to?” He repeats, and she nods her head. “For real?”
“Yes,” She giggles. “For real”
“Well then why I haven’t you kissed me before?” He asks.
“Why aren’t you kissing me now?” She quips back, a nervous smile tugging on her lips.
Richie laughs a breathless laugh, before his hand settles on her cheek. She’s still biting her lip, waiting patiently to see if he’d make a move. She hoped he did, she really, really hoped that he did.
She inched closer to him, her hands curling around the base of his neck.
She watched as he placed the bottle of Jack on the pavement next to them, and her eyes lingered on the bottle until he lifted her chin so she’d look at him again. His eyes were soft, and his smile was gentle.
She smiled back, and leaned in further, until her lips met his.
They were soft- so soft, like rose petals. Jack-tasting rose petals. It was such a tentative kiss, that she wondered if he was scared.
She let her hands travel into his curls, and they both hummed when she let the soft strands filter through her fingers.
He smiled against her lips, and held her face between both of his hands now, so he could press his lips more firmly against hers.
Why hadn’t he been doing this the whole time?
They parted suddenly, both in dire need to take a breath.
Her eyes fluttered open, wide, and full of a million questions, and Richie could read every single one like she was an open book.
He stared back at her with the same sincerity in his eyes.
“Wow” She mumbled, her hands sliding from his neck to his shoulders.
“Yeah,” He agreed, equally as quiet. “Wow”
this is going to be a random series with mini parts bc it was too long and weird to post as one fic !!
xoxo ~ jordie
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Amnesia - Richie Tozier (part five)
word count: 653
warnings: none ?
summary: loosely based off the song Amnesia by 5sos
+ (part one)
+ (part two)
+ (part three)
+ (part four)
[ i remember the day you told me you were leaving, i remember the makeup running down your face ]
Derry, Maine, 1992
“(y/n)?” Richie was surprised that she’d shown up at his doorstep.
Not that she was here, because she was always with him. But because it was so early in the morning, and she was crying. Sobbing, really.
“Babycakes, what’s wrong? What happened?”
He stepped outside and shut the door behind him, not wanting to alert his parents that he was awake, or that she was here. The poor girl was crying so hard her mascara was beginning to smear under her eyes, and she couldn’t speak.
He shushed her gently, and told her to catch her breath, while he wiped the tears off her face.
“It’s alright, you’ve got all morning, deep breaths, baby” He murmured.
Now, (y/n) and Richie weren’t exclusive, they didn’t have the ‘relationship’ conversation, and didn’t call each other boyfriend-girlfriend. But that didn’t mean they weren’t together, as far as they, and the rest of their peers were concerned. Everyone knew that (y/n) was Richie’s and Richie was (y/n’s). They weren’t dating, but they were though. It took the Losers a long time to grasp the idea, but once they really saw their friends together, they started to understand.
They were in love, no need for unnecessary labels that could only make things more difficult.
When she finally did find her voice, she could barely look at him.
“W-we’re moving,” She stammered out. “We’re moving- to- to-”
Richie pulled her in and hugged her tightly before she could even finish. He tried to convince himself that it was to comfort her, to ease her stress, but that wasn’t completely true. It was hard to look at her when she was so broken.
“I-I-I tried to-”
“It’s okay, it’s alright babycakes just take deep breaths” Richie hummed into her ear.
She buried her face into his neck and hugged him back tightly.
Maybe she wouldn’t have to go if she held on tight enough.
He rubbed her back in circles, trying to do what he could to calm her down. But the girl was shaking so bad, he didn’t think he could comfort her this time. He might just have to wait this one out.
“I don’t wanna go,” She whimpered.
Her hands grabbed the back of his tee shirt in fists.
“I don’t want to l-leave you”
He smiled sadly at the sentiment.
His hands found hers as he pulled away. She was still crying, but it didn’t take over her whole body anymore.
“When do you go?” He asked.
“In August, r-right before the school year starts,” She stammered out. There was a deep curve in her eyebrows as she stared at him helplessly. “Richie what if-”
“That’s plenty of time, babe,” He told her softly. Even though no amount of time could have been enough. He cradled her cheek in his palm. “It’s gonna be alright”
The frown on her face told him she didn’t believe him, but she wasn’t about to argue it.
So Richie leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
“So,” (y/n) sighed, finally back in control of her breathing. “You want to run away with me?”
Richie chuckled, and hugged her close again.
“Anything for you, babycakes”
It was weird hearing him say that in his normal voice. It made her heart break in the best of ways.
“I love you, dummy” She chuckled.
“Love you too, babycakes,” He whispered back. “Now come on, let’s get breakfast. Since you decided to pop by at six in the morning”
He linked his fingers through hers and tugged her off the doorstep. She walked right by his side, so close their arms and shoulders kept bumping, but neither of them minded. There soon would be a day where they’re miles apart, they might as well stay glued together until then.
xoxo ~ jordie
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Amnesia - Richie Tozier (part nine)
word count: 1041
warnings: mentions of sex
summary: loosely based on Amnesia by 5sos
+ (part one)
+ (part two)
+ (part three)
+ (part four)
+ (part five)
+ (part six)
+ (part seven)
+ (part eight)
[ tell me this is just a dream // cause i’m not fine at all ]
Derry, Maine, 1992
“You have no idea how much I love you”
Richie turned around from where he sat on her living room sofa. He’d come over because her parents were out, and that could’ve meant a million things. Tonight, it meant hooking up and then ordering pizza.
She’d just walked into the room, and hadn’t said anything at first. Just admired how he looked lounging in her space. His hair was a mess, which was normal, but it was even messier thanks to her. He looked content watching tv while waiting for her return. And then she couldn’t help but tell him what she was thinking.
A lopsided smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as she rounded the couch to sit right on his lap, her legs straddled on either side of his.
“Enlighten me then, babycakes” He said, making her giggle.
She shrugged a shoulder while he was sweeping her hair off her shoulder to kiss the skin her tank top exposed.
“I just don’t think anything could ever be the same,” She said sweetly, and he leaned back to give her a confused look. “Since knowing you, since falling for you-”
“-since fucking me-” He teased, but it was short lived because she was quick to whack his chest.
“I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone as much as I love you,” She murmured, and pecked his lips. “I don’t know, I just started thinking about it”
“Our love his god” He quoted, and she wanted to roll her eyes, but she laughed instead.
“Maybe so,” She hummed, and gave him a longer kiss. “Or maybe I just really like your face”
He awed, peppering kisses all over her cheeks and nose and eyelids.
“I really like your face too, baby,” He said playfully. “I really like your everything to be honest”
“I know, Richie” She monotoned.
“Like, really,” He mused, pressing a kiss to her jaw, “Everything” Another kiss to her neck.
She was quick to wrap her arms around his neck and swing her body to lay down on the cushions, pulling his body over hers.
“I know, Richie” She repeated with a laugh as she hastily yanked his shirt up over his head.
San Francisco, California, 2020
(y/n) giggled in her half-asleep state as the word ghosted over the back of her neck. It was the middle of the night, and she was exhausted to no end, but she knew that he just had to ask her his midnight question before he could go to sleep.
“What’s on your mind, baby?” She mumbled back.
The hand that was on her hip traveled up her arm before smoothing over her bare shoulder.
“What if you and I got married?”
She instantly swept her exhaustion under the rug, rolling over in his arms and staring at him with wide and skeptical eyes.
“Really?” She asked, suddenly short of breath.
“Really,” He answered, nodding his head. “I mean, I think things have been going really well-”
“Yeah, yeah they have” She agreed, nodding back at him in a much more anxious fashion.
“And I really fucking love you living here,” He continued. “And I love you just as much- if not more than I did back in the golden days,”
She giggled, still nodding, and kissing him quickly.
“And babycakes I’ve wanted to put a ring on it since we met”
“Are you quoting Beyonce in your proposal-”
“Whaddya say?” He murmured, cradling her face in his hands.
“I say you’re a dummy, and I fucking love you,” She answered, pecking his lips once more “More than anything,” She added, kissing him a third time. “Let’s do it, baby”
He whooped loudly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her smaller frame on top of him completely. All the while she was giggling, and threading her hands through his hair.
“We’ll invite all our friends, and family- well, maybe not,” She giggled, but insisted he go on. “It’ll be so grand- and babycakes you’re gonna look so beautiful”
He leaned up to kiss her, which she smiled against his lips.
“We’ll invite everyone,” She hummed against his mouth. “Everyone we’ve ever met- all of Derry, even,” She grinned down at him delightedly. “I want everyone to see,”
(y/n) maneuvered off of his body to lay on her side next to him, and he mirrored her, adoring how beautiful she looked as she fantasized her- well, their- dream wedding.
“I want everyone to know I’ll be marrying you, Richie Trashmouth Tozier,” She murmured. “The whole town will be jealous”
“The whole town won’t be surprised,” He mocked “I can’t wait”
“Me either,” She told him, and kissed him once more. “I love you, dummy” She whispered.
“I love you too, babycakes”
She settled against his chest, wrapped up in the comfort of his arms, and the blankets that he was currently situating around them. Every night she was grateful to spend in his arms. He was her everything, and she didn’t think twice about agreeing to marry him.
“One more question,” Richie mumbled into her hair. She hummed in response. “After we’re married, will I have to start calling you Babycakes Tozier?”
Her breath of a laugh fanned over his collarbone in a delightful sensation.
“I think I’d actually love that” She said sweetly.
He smiled to himself, and then dropped a kiss to the crown of her head before pulling her closer and holding her tighter.
“I love you,” He whispered again, just to say it. She might have fallen asleep already, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t care. He’d tell her all night until he passed out too. “I love you so much”
Her hand grasped at his chest, taking the material of his tee shirt in a loose fist. She didn’t say it back this time, but she didn’t have to for him to know. He just did.
He’d whisper those three special words a few more times, until they were faint enough that they disappeared into the dark room, and the pair were tangled in each other and fast asleep.
Both at their most content state.
that’s all folks :)
xoxo ~ jordie
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(Please Don’t) Leave Me Alone - Richie Tozier
word count: 3142
warnings: swearing, mentions of being drugged
summary: maybe richie ignoring you had more reason to it than you thought. maybe he was just... jealous?
Looking back on it now, going to a party by herself was probably the worst idea (y/n’s) ever had. Not because she disliked parties, she loved them, but she’d always gone in a group, or with a friend. Tonight, she’d gone completely alone.
She’d thought it would be exciting, she could do whatever she wanted, and stay as late or leave as early as she pleased, not having to wait for a friend hooking up with a stranger or a ride home. She could drink to no end and meet new people- it was a good idea, in theory.
Except now, she was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Meaning the wall, and Steven Matson’s arm. Earlier the attention had been welcomed, she didn’t mind being flirted with by a cute guy, it’d been a while since anyone had flirted with her, honestly, so it was very welcomed.
There was once a time where she didn’t really have to worry about that kind of attention, because she used to always get it from-
“Want me to get you another drink?” The boy in front of her asked, shaking her thoughts.
“Hm? Oh,” She nods, handing him her empt cup. “Yeah, sure, thanks”
He grins in response before leaving. And she doesn’t realize that she’s been holding her breath until she sighs, and slumps back against the wall.
Steven’s not that exciting, she realizes. He’s been chatting her ear off for the past- who knows, hour, maybe? And she couldn’t recall a single thing he’d said. It wasn’t due to the alcohol either. He was just that simple.
He wasn’t ugly, though.
Running her hands through her hair, she wished that she had a tie to pull it back, because it was suddenly very hot in the room, and it was all she could focus on. The smell of sweat from dancing and bustling bodies, and how much heat they generated in this small room. She wanted to head outside for a breath of fresh air, but there was no way she could make it out and back in time to see Steven.
She made a glance towards the door, just out of curiosity, to see if she could run there and back. But her eyes landed elsewhere.
On a tall, curly mop of haired figure that had just wandered in.
Richie’s eyes met hers, and she darted her gaze elsewhere with an inhumane speed.
Richie Tozier was her best friend, or at least he used to be. In the past month he’d been shutting her out, until eventually he was more of a ghost than a friend at all. She didn’t know what she did, or what happened that made him not want to hang out with her anymore, but it was no use trying to ask, because anytime she tried to talk to him, he’d vanish.
At first it was heartbreaking, because she’d known him for so long, and she thought that they were close enough to talk through any rough patch they could go through. But as time went on and Richie pushed himself further away, (y/n) only became annoyed, and was a bit more eager to let him do whatever he wanted.
And if he wanted nothing to do with her, then fine. She wasn’t going to beg him to stay.
Even though she really, really wanted to.
“Hope you didn’t miss me too much”
(y/n) nearly jumped when Steven appeared in front of her, one arm caging her in while he handed her a drink. She gave him a short, weak smile, and backed herself up until the wall wouldn’t allow her to move away any further. The flaw in this plan, however, is that Steven just followed, and the space between them was even shorter.
“Course not” She mumbled back, and was about to take a drink from her cup, before she noticed the strange fizzing at the bottom.
Great. He spiked it with something.
She let out a soft sigh, lifting the cup to her lips and pretending to take a sip, so that he wouldn’t realize she caught on to his dumb scheme.
Tonight couldn’t have gone more terribly.
“So, whaddya say you and I go somewhere else?”
(y/n) looked up at him, eyes bored, and a eyebrow raised as if to say ‘really?’.
“Somewhere, huh?” She hums, only for her own entertainment. “Like where?”
“Well we could go upstairs…” He suggested, leaning in closer. It took a lot of energy for her not to shrink away.
God his breath smelled like beer.
“Or to my car out front,” He continued. “Or honestly, we could just-”
“Alright pal,” (y/n) pushed her hand into his arm, and began to shove him away so she could leave. “It’s not happening”
With that, she began to walk off, tossing her drugged drink to the ground carelessly.
“Wait wait wait,” Steven spun around, snatching her arm in his hand so she’d stop. “But all night you-”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She snapped at him, yanking her arm to get it of his hold, but he was much stronger than her. “Steven let go-”
“You’re such a fucking tease, (y/n),” He snarled, the playful and flirty voice long gone. “Leading me on all night long, and now you’re acting like you don’t want this”
There’s a split second where she’s genuinely afraid of him, because his grip is unrelenting, and the look in his eyes suggests that he doesn’t care whether she gives in willingly or not.
And as soon as the idea of yelling for help crosses her mind, the feeling is gone.
Because she’s torn away from Steven’s hold, and there’s a secure hold around her waist.
“Why don’t you fuck off, Matson” A voice mutters.
All of the fear she’d previously felt disappeared, and it’s replaced by the surprise of having Richie right there next to her, keeping her firmly held against his side.
He’s being protective.
Steven rolls his eyes, obviously not giving a shit about Richie’s little display. He scoffs, glancing from Richie to (y/n).
“Come on, why don’t you tell your little guard dog here that you can speak for yourself, and that he can go and fuck off now?” Steven asks.
(y/n) scoffs, staring at him with disgust, and honestly, she should spit on him. She wants to spit on him, fuck she really wants to step forward and spit right on his face-
“Matson, I swear to fucking god, if another shitty fucking thing comes out of your mouth, I’ll break it,” Richie’s hand is tightening on her hip, and he’s pushing her behind him a bit. “Seriously, walk away”
He’s practically growling, and even when they were friends she’d never seen him so… angry.
“Richie fucking Tozier why are you here being a buzzkill?” Steven spat out, taking a daring step forward. “She clearly doesn’t even give a shit about you, so why don’t you just-”
The loud crack of skin on skin was a sharp echo, and anyone in a five foot radius could hear the burning sensation on Steven’s cheek.
(y/n) was panting, and she shook out her hand, because the slap stung her palm more than she thought it would.
“Fuck you” She muttered to the boy who was holding his cheek and whining like a baby.
She cast a glance towards Richie for a short moment, before shoving past him and making her way to the door. She was done with this night, this party, she just wanted to go home and curl up into a ball under her blankets and forget all of this had happened.
Of course, she wasn’t able to leave that easy, and as soon as she walked out the door, someone hollered for her.
She looked back at Richie, before shaking her head, and continuing her trek.
“What do you want?” She muttered, leaving him no choice but to chase after her in order to catch up.
She barely even looked at him.
“Jesus, (y/n/n), give me some credit, I’m here to make sure you’re okay”
“Wow,” She rolls her eyes. “Thanks. Really,”
Her voice is monotone, so he knows she doesn’t mean it, and it’s annoying, but she continues before he can come up with some witty snap back remark.
She stops in her tracks, whirling around and shoving an accusatory finger into his chest. He stumbles backward, caught off guard from the sudden action, but he catches his footing, left to watch her explode.
“Thanks for showing up, and for being there. Wow, Richie. Just… wow”
It’s more of a simmer than an explosion, but it feels just as bad.
(y/n) starts to walk off again, but Richie just runs up to her side again.
“For fucks sake (y/n)- will you pause for just a second-?”
“No!” She shouts, shaking her head furiously. “No, Rich, I won’t, I’m not going to- I- I can’t wait for you anymore, I’m tired of waiting for you,” Her voice cracks, and he knows that if she starts crying right now, then he’s going to break. “So can you please just… just go back to icing me out because it was honestly easier”
She sniffles, and turns away to walk home in peace. It hurts to walk away but she’s just so tired of his bullshit. Never before had her own body felt so heavy, each step making her bed more and more enticing.
Richie didn’t say anything, but he kept walking next to her.
She looked up at him, teary eyes narrowed, and her brow furrowed in a glare, but Richie just shrugged his shoulders.
“Well I’m not gonna let you walk yourself home alone at this time of night,” He said, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “So you’ll just have to put up with me for the next ten minutes”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes again, but doesn’t give him the benefit of a remark, opting instead to keep her mouth shut.
She makes it a whole minute before feeling compelled to say something.
“What were you even doing there?” She muttered out, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. “I thought you hated parties now”
He lets out a chuckle, earning another glare from the girl.
“To come save you, obviously,” He teases, which she definitely doesn’t appreciate. “I just thought I’d give it a shot, seeing as I had nothing else going on tonight”
She didn’t know what she wanted to hear, but that certainly wasn’t it. And Richie could tell, because she was frowning.
“Are you mad?” He asked with a chuckle.
“You did not just fucking ask me that” She mutters back.
“(y/n), you asked, what did you want me to say?” He asks, and she just scoffs.
“I didn’t need you to swoop in like some hero and rescue me, Richie,” She told him. “You might find this hard to believe, but I’ve actually learned to live on my own now thank you very much. And with that means I can protect myself, I don’t need you to-”
“Alright, I get it,” He mutters. “Your ‘standing back and doing nothing’ was your way of standing up for yourself,” He says, and before (y/n) can argue, he’s muttering again. “My apologies, I didn’t realize you had that handled. Which is why I came over to help your ass-”
“Alright, that’s enough-”
“-which would have been his, by the way, had I not intervened”
“Congratu-fucking-lations!” (y/n) shrieked. “Go ahead and pat yourself on the fucking back then. What do you want from me? Huh? Do you really think I would’ve let Steven fucking Matson have his way with me?”
“No, I don’t think that,” Richie mumbled. “But I didn’t like the way he was looking at you. Or grabbing you like that-”
“Wow,” (y/n) rolled her eyes. “I honestly didn’t think you still gave a fuck”
Richie looked down at her, but she’d rendered him speechless, so he didn’t say anything. He looked forward as they walked in silence for a little while longer.
It was silent until they got to her porch.
She looked up at him, with a sad sort of expression, like looking at him broke her heart. And quite frankly, it did.
“Thanks for walking me home, Richie,” She said in a soft mutter. “You can go back to forgetting about me now”
She turned to walk inside, but his hand stopped her. It wrapped around her wrist delicately, in a hold much more gentle than Steven had her in earlier. If she wanted, she could tug her arm away and go inside. If she wanted.
“For the fucking record,” Richie muttered down to her, voice so low it was almost in a growl like it had been earlier. “I wasn’t icing you out because I wanted to. You think I want to? For fucks sake (y/n), I couldn’t be around you anymore because I was so goddamn in love with you that it hurt being around you when you obviously didn’t feel the same way. You don’t know how much it fucking sucks being friendzoned by you. I thought it was going to be easier not having you around, than having you right in front of me, and out of reach,”
Her heart is pounding, and she could feel it everywhere. From her chest to her stomach to her through to her cheek to the very tips of her fingers- she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Richie had been in love with her? It was almost too good to be true, and normally she wouldn’t believe it, but she could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice, he’d never been more serious about anything.
“I’m sorry for doing it,” He continues. “But if I hadn’t, I would’ve lost my fucking mind”
“That’s such bullshit,” (y/n) mumbles, her breath hitching in her throat. “You shut me out because you had feelings for me?” She asks, and Richie furrows his brows, offended by the outburst. “Did you ever think about- I don’t know- just telling me?” She asks with a humorless laugh. “I mean, jesus Richie, we would’ve been together this whole fucking time, but instead you make me think that you hate me and you shut me out-”
“Hold on- stop- you liked me?” Richie asks, shocked by her off-handed confession.
“Liked you?” (y/n) repeats breathlessly. “Richie, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, you fucking dumbass-”
She raises her hand up to shove him in the chest, but he captures it with his own before leaning over and kissing her. It’s sudden, so sudden that she trips on nothing but the sheer surprise of his lips on hers, but Richie’s arm wraps around her waist, securing her against him.
A sigh escapes her, one of content and safety, and she melts against him, almost becoming a puddle on her doorstep. The hand in his is held tightly against his chest, and the other is gripping his shoulder, keeping her balanced.
He kisses her again, quickly, before she can completely pull away. Just in case she decides to walk through her door and never look at him again.
When they part, it’s slow, and his hand flies up to cup her cheek, a quick but gentle action, and his thumb traces over her cheekbone with a featherlight touch.
Her eyes are still shut, and she blindly leans forward a bit, close enough that when she whispers, he feels it against his lips.
“Are you gonna go back to ignoring me?”
He chuckles, stealing another quick peck, before shaking his head.
She finally opens her eyes, and instantly, there’s a smile on her lips.
“I guess that depends, on if you want to go out with me tomorrow night?”
“To a party?” She asks.
“No, of course not,” Richie shakes his head. “Anything else, literally anything else” He murmurs, and she grins even wider, nodding her head.
“Yeah, yeah anything else sounds good to me” She agrees softly.
She’s still nodding, in a shaky sort of way, and Richie has to cup her face in both hands to get her to stop.
“Okay,” He hums. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, then”
“Okay,” She repeats. “I’ll see you tomorrow”
He gives her a grin, before letting go of her, and stepping back.
“Alright then” He hums.
She watches him go, a delighted smile on her face. Her heart is still pounding in her chest, and she thinks it might never stop.
She calls when he’s descended her front steps, and she’s quick to race up to him, wrap her arms around him, and lean over the few inches that she’s towered above him, and kiss him one more time.
His arms encircle her waist, holding her flush against his chest. She’s on her tiptoes on the step, and one of her feet lifts off the ground, both from the bliss and from Richie picking her up, just a little bit.
“I just wanted one more,” She murmured, and Richie laughed, kissing her quickly once more, and then again. “Okay, Romeo,” She sighed. “You better go home before my parents come out and see us”
“Fine, fine,” He sighed, and backed away, reluctantly releasing her from his arms. “Tomorrow”
“Tomorrow” She says back.
She combs her fingers through his hair for a second, before turning and actually heading inside.
With a content sigh, she leans her back against the front door, eyes falling shut as her mind wandered to the events of the night. It was ridiculous, how quick of a turn things went. And now, she was going to see Richie tomorrow, for a date. She couldn't believe it.
“Who was that boy?” A voice asked, making her perk up, and realize her mother had been waiting there at the door.
“Richie,” (y/n) replied. “He walked me home”
“Richie your friend?” Her mother replied. “You’re friends again?”
(y/n) grinned, nodding her head.
“Well, I’m going to bed,” She said. “G’night, mom-”
“You’re dating this boy, now?”
“Richie,” (y/n) reminded, pausing on the steps to look down at her. “And yes, I- I think I am”
Her mother shakes her head, and lets out a small scoff.
“Really, (y/n)? Of all your options-”
“Oh, fuck off,” (y/n) laughs, trying not to listen too closely to the harsh words. “Don’t go acting like you give a shit now”
She ascends the stairs, and forgets about her mother’s cruel idea of parenting. It won’t matter tomorrow, though. So she thinks about tomorrow. Because she’s gotten Richie back, and he’s all hers now.
xoxo ~ jordie
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Really? Really. - Mike Wheeler
word count: 4319
warnings: swearing, random meaningless fic
summary: (y/n) tumbles into the Upside Down, this is the aftermath.
“I want a gun”
Nancy and Jonathan both swiveled around from their seats in the front of the car.
(y/n) hadn’t made a sound since they’d found her. She hadn’t cried, hadn’t spoken a word, in fact, Nancy’s eyes kept wandering to the rearview mirror to make sure she was even still back there. Nancy had been worried that she was traumatized to the point of no return- that maybe the girl was a mute now.
But those three words changed her mind pretty quick.
The Wheeler girl peeked into the mirror again, finding (y/n) leaning against the door of the car, staring blankly out the window. She was certainly checked out. But after what she’d gone through tonight, this was no surprise. Neither Nancy or Jon expected her to bounce back in a matter of twenty minutes and be her bubbly self again.
Jonathan tapped on Nancy’s arm, before taking her hand from the wheel and clasping onto it tightly. He could tell that she felt for the girl, because they both knew all too well that she’d gone to hell and back -quite literally- and it would take some time for her to even start coping with that.
When they pulled into the Wheelers’ driveway, (y/n) remained still in the backseat.
Jonathan and Nancy looked at her, and then at each other.
Nancy nodded her head for him to go in the house, silently telling him she’d take care of it. He reluctantly left her to do what she did best.
Convince people to do what she needs them to do. But with a gentle touch.
“(y/n),” Nancy called from outside of the car, before carefully opening the door, making sure the younger girl’s body wouldn’t crumple without the support of the door to lean on. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
She extends a hand to the girl in the car, and it takes a moment, but eventually (y/n) takes her hand and lets her help her out.
Nancy shuts the car door, and slowly guides (y/n) into their home. She’d been there a dozen times, more than that even, she just about grew up there. But going inside tonight felt foreign.
With all the lights turned off, and having to tiptoe so that Mr and Mrs Wheeler couldn’t hear Nancy sneaking in herself and Jonathan, it felt… wrong.
But no one was going to suggest that (y/n) go home and spend the night alone.
“I’ll grab you some clothes to sleep in, hon” Nancy said, and before (y/n) could find her voice to protest, the older girl had left the room.
Leaving her to stand alone, in the room dimly lit by a bedside lamp Nancy had turned on. Apparently turning on the overhead light was more prone to waking her parents. Not that (y/n) gave a shit about waking up the Wheelers right now. She just didn’t want to be left alone.
Wrapping her arms around herself, trying to provide as much comfort as she could, she took a seat on the end of Nancy’s bed.
She wasn’t sure of the last time she was in this room. Usually Mike and the rest of The Party was the reason for her being in the house, so being alone in Nancy’s room was just another strange new territory.
The voice at the door made her jump, and her eyes snapped up from where she’d been studying the picture of Barb on Nancy’s desk.
“My sister said you got attacked by the dem-”
Mike almost finished his thought, but upon seeing the way (y/n) flinched, and her eyes darted away, he knew better, and shut his mouth fast.
“So… are you okay?”
She looks back at him, curiously for a moment, as if wondering if he really meant that as a question. When she realized he was waiting for a reply, she scoffed, and narrowed her eyes.
“Why don’t you think that through for a minute and then ask me again,” She said.
She was angry, but she was still shaking from the night she had, so the venom she intended to be laced in her words fell short, and instead she just sounded broken.
“Jesus fucking christ” The girl mumbled, more to herself, and hung her head in her hands.
No matter how hard she rubbed her eyes, the image of the monster from the Upside Down still plagued her vision. It was like a night terror- she knew it was gone, and that she was safe now, especially in the Wheeler’s house, but that didn’t stop her from shaking.
“I’m sorry that- that was a dumb question”
He wanted to walk in the room, to sit with her and let her… cry, he supposed. He’d never seen (y/n) cry before. He’d never seen her so vulnerable at all, actually. This was new, and weird, and he didn’t know what to do.
He just knew that he should do something to console her.
“No, I- I’m sorry,” (y/n) stammered back. “I’m just, um-”
“Mike!” Nancy hissed, suddenly appearing behind her brother in the doorway, holding fresh warm clothes from the dryer. “Leave her alone,” She whispered, trying to keep her volume low so that only Mike could hear, but (y/n) could still hear her fine. “She needs time to recover”
(y/n) winced, but tried her best not to show it while Nancy graciously gave her the clothes she’d collected. The older Wheeler was only trying to help. Even if she really wasn’t doing much to put (y/n) at ease.
“Thank you,” (y/n) sighs, taking the clothes, and standing to head to the bathroom down the hall.
However, as soon as she’s in the hallway, her throat closes up, and she spins around on her heel to face Nancy and Mike who are still in the doorway.
“Will uh- will you stand outside?” She asked softly, eyes darting between the two. She didn’t care who did it, she just didn’t want to be stuck in a closed room with no one nearby.
Nancy had spoken up first, but Mike was louder, and faster, following her down the hall and waiting right outside the door.
She moved to shut it, but seemed to hesitate before latching it. Her eyes locked on the bolt, unsure of what to do. She couldn’t just leave the door open, but there was no way in hell she was latching it shut.
Luckily, Mike caught this look, and he was quick to reassure her.
“You can leave it, I’ll just turn,” He said in a hum, and turned the other way, so that he couldn’t see through the crack between the door and the frame. “There, can’t even see you” He said, just so that she knew he really couldn’t see anything but the hallway.
She changed as quickly as possible, both out of fear starting to consume her again, and not wanting to waste Mike’s time.
She walked out a few moments later, and Mike had to bite his lip to suppress a giggle that tried to slip out when he looked at her.
She was so significantly shorter than Nancy, that the pant legs of the sweatpants she was borrowing, she was standing on. The flimsy material hung past her feet a good few inches. And the tee shirt she wore almost fit her, but not quite.
“What?” The girl mumbled, looking down at herself before back at him.
Mike shook his head, brushing it off because he was too embarrassed to tell her how cute she was.
“You can stay in my room, (y/n/n),” Nancy called softly from down the hall, gaining the girl’s attention again, and (y/n) made her way back to Nancy’s room. “I’m gonna stay in the guest room, with Jon,” She explained, pulling back the covers. “You’ll have it all to yourself”
“Oh,” (y/n) mumbled. “Um, thank you, Nance”
She timidly sat down on the bed, and pulled her legs up to stick them under the blankets.
“Course. I’m just down the hall if you need anything, hon”
(y/n) nods back at her, and Nancy gives her a soft smile before walking out of the room.
Mike is lingering by the door, and despite Nancy muttering leave her the hell alone, he walked in as soon as Nancy was gone. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out one of the dozens of walkie-talkies he and The Party had.
“I figured you wouldn’t bring yours over,” He said, handing it to her. “It’s on channel two, mine downstairs is too”
(y/n) smiled weakly, and thanked him in a soft voice.
“Anyways, um, goodnight, then” Mike stammered, before awkwardly leaving the room.
She was relieved that he left the door open when he walked out of the room.
But as soon as she was alone she held the walkie-talkie close to her chest, and hoped that sleep would overcome her so that she didn’t have to lay here thinking about what happened tonight.
Twigs snapping, leaves shuffling.
Footsteps, heavy, gaining, picking up speed.
Crying, her own sniffling, it must be, but somehow she’s still not sure.
And suddenly it all stops, time freezes in front of her, and all sound ceases. There is no creature behind her, death no longer looms in the near future. She doesn’t know where she is, but she’s safe.
And then she’s not.
Her voice is quiet, muffled from the walkie-talkie being pressed into the palm of his hand. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep holding it, but at least the static vibrations that came from her call woke him up.
He responded with a mumbled, “Yeah? Hello?” and it was obvious that he’d just been sleeping from the scratchiness in his voice, but he tried his best to wake himself up more.
“Can you come up- can- can I come downstairs?”
She was stuttering, maybe crying, he couldn’t tell from the crackling of the sound through the device.
“Yeah, yeah for sure,” Mike answered, already kicking off his blankets and making his way up the stairs. “Just a sec”
He moves to get off the bed and rush upstairs, but his feet are still tangled in the sheets and he ends up falling- which actually really hurts- but he yanks the blanket off and runs up the stairs anyways.
Just as he opens the door between the basement and the first floor, he nearly crashes into a body, and he has to grab onto their shoulders to stop from crashing into them completely.
She’s flustered, he can tell because her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are watery, but now she’s just worried about what he was doing.
“Were you running upstairs?” She asked him, brows furrowing.
“Were you running downstairs?” He fires back, and her pale face goes pink for a moment.
“Yeah I- I didn’t know you were coming up,” She stammered. “And I could hear your dad snoring from down the hall”
Mike lets out a chuckle, and realizes he’d held his hands on her shoulders for far too long, and then drops them to his sides awkwardly.
“Come on,” He says through a cough, and lets her down the steps first, closing the door behind him as he follows. “Did something happen? Did you have a nightmare? Are you okay-?”
“I’m- slow down- I’m fine,” (y/n) mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself and glancing around the basement. “I just couldn’t- uh- sleep”
Mike nods, wringing his hands together, unsure of what to do now.
“That’s okay, me either” He lies, only to make her feel better.
“Then why’s your blanket on the ground?” She asked, picking up the comforter and tossing it back on the mattress. “And your lights are off-”
“Want to play cards?” He asked suddenly. “To, uh, get your mind off it?”
She blinks, confused by the abrupt offer. But he’s already digging through his drawer to retrieve a box of cards, so she nods, and sits with him on the bed while he shuffles the deck.
It’s spontaneous, but after a few rounds she’s found that her mind had cleared from the horrors previously keeping her awake, so maybe Mike was better at this whole ‘consoling’ thing than she thought.
“Thanks,” She said after a while.
It was obvious that Mike was exhausted, his eyes kept drooping, and he’d occasionally lean forward a bit, like he was about to pass out, only to snap back and sit up straight.
He gave her a bit of a confused look.
“For hanging out with me,” She continues, softly. “It really helps”
“Oh, yeah- yeah, sure,” He stammers out, because he’s not too sure what to say. “You know you can uh- stay down here, if you want,” He said.
(y/n) glances up at him from the cards in her hand, and almost instantly he wants to take it back.
“You don’t have to!” He’s almost yelling, his nervousness getting the best of him. “Just- you know, if you didn’t want to- to stay alone, there’s plenty of space here on the bed,”
She raises her brows, only because his excessive stammering and stuttering is quite amusing, and if she’s being honest, adorable.
“Or not!” His voice cracks. “I’ll stay on the floor! I’ll sleep on the floor. I have a sleeping bag I can lay it on the floor and you- you can sleep in the bed, that makes more sense, yeah, I wasnt’ trying to get you in my bed or anything- oh my fucking god-”
“Mike, slow down,” (y/n) laughs softly. “It’s fine, you’re fine-”
“I just- if you- I mean- if you wanted-”
“Sure,” She hums, before he can start babbling again. “I’ll stay”
“Yeah” (y/n) nods her head.
“Okay. Cool. Okay”
She doesn’t say anything when he starts to mumble more babbles, because she thinks it’s better for him to just get this anxiety out of his system. It’s odd, because for as long as she’s known Mike Wheeler, he was not an anxious boy. He was far too cocky to be nervous, not like this anyways, so seeing him stumble over himself so much was a strange kind of refreshing.
They played cards for another hour, until (y/n) was finally tired enough to go to bed.
Mike put away the cards, and wandered around the basement in search of his sleeping bag for a solid five minutes.
(y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, watching him with a curious eye as his movements became frantic, throwing drawers open, plowing through shelves. She let him go on for a while, until eventually she was too bored and confused to let this display go on any longer.
“Hey Mike?” She called.
“Yeah?” He responded, still on his search.
“What uh… what are ya doing?” She asked.
“Looking for my sleeping bag- but I think I might’ve left it at Will’s, or maybe it’s in Nancy’s-”
“Mike, just come lay with me,” She said, and the boy whirled around so fast that she thought he might’ve gotten whiplash. “It’s fine, you said so yourself, plenty of space”
“I don’t- uh- are you sure?”
(y/n) nods, and he’s still a bit hesitant, but he makes his way over anyways, and lays down next to her.
“See?” She muses, gesturing to the space still between them. “Plenty”
“Y-yeah” He stammers back.
His eyes are darting to anywhere but hers, because he’s certain if he looks at her right now his face will go hot.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore anyways,” She mumbled out, and finally his gaze locked on hers. “That’s when uh- that’s when it comes back,” She adds. “The visions, and… shit”
“You’re still seeing them?” He asked.
“More or less,” She answers with a shrug. “Earlier- um, when I called, that’s… why”
“Is it the demogorgons-? You don’t- you don’t have to answer I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about this”
“It’s okay,” She responds. “And yeah, it was,”
It’s quiet again, and her eyes are downcast.
“I don’t remember how I got there, it’s just… I was suddenly falling… and when I landed it was dark, and I just- I don’t know how I knew, I just knew to run before it could get me,”
Mike nods, and hesitantly holds his hand out, laying it flat, palm up, in the space between them. She looks at it for a moment, and then slides her hand into his, and carefully slots her fingers between his.
“It got me anyways,” She continues, her voice barely even came out, her whispers were so faint. “And then I’m not sure what happened, it’s kind of fuzzy. Time must work differently down there, because I could have sworn I died… I thought it… ate me, or tore me apart, I don’t know. But next thing I know Jon’s picking me up and I’m back in the real world”
“Where were you?”
“Why’d you even go out there?” He asked. “By yourself-?”
“I went with Jon and Nancy-”
“By yourself” Mike repeats.
“Nancy had a gun-”
(y/n) huffs, and shook her head.
“We were trying to find the entrance, to seal it, or blow it up, I don’t really know. But I owed it to them”
“You didn’t owe shit,” Mike says.
She doesn’t say anything, and he’s worried that he’d spoken too harshly, so he speaks up again quickly.
“But I’m glad your here now,” He says. “I’m glad you’re back”
(y/n) gives him a gentle smile, and weakly squeezes his hand.
“Thanks, Mike” She murmurs.
It’s quiet again, and the next few minutes are spent making awkward and bashful eye contact, before quickly looking away. And then repeat.
“I think I’m gonna get a gun” (y/n) says after a while.
Mike lets out a laugh before he can stop himself, and nods his head in approval.
“That would be cute”
The words tumble out without much thought, and he doesn’t seem to realize what he’d actually said until (y/n’s) giggling and there’s a faint blush dusting over her cheeks.
“Cute?” She repeated.
Well, there’s no taking that back now, Mike thinks while his mouth opens and closes pathetically. Might as well just cross my fingers and go with it.
“Yeah, you with a gun,” He says. “I can’t really picture it, but it’d be adorable”
She giggles again, but her brows are drawn together in a confused fashion.
“Because, you’re you,” Mike answers. “You carry bugs outside so they won’t get killed, what the hell are you gonna do with a gun?”
Her blush darkens, and she’s shyly staring down at their hands now.
“I don’t know, protect myself, protect you and the others” She shrugs, and Mike chuckles again.
“You’re adorable,” He says, and when he squeezes her hand she looks up at him. “But you’re going to hurt yourself”
“I would practice,” (y/n) stresses through a small laugh. “I could get good, like Nancy. Or Hopper”
Mike smiles at her, and nods his head just to appease her.
“Sure, (y/n/n),” He says. “Maybe let’s just be careful who we share this with, alright?”
She rolls her eyes.
“I’m not gonna go telling everyone, just the people important enough who need to know. You know, the ones that get chased by monsters once a year?”
He laughs quietly, before nodding again.
“That’s fair. Maybe you should have one”
It’s quiet again, and (y/n) shuts her eyes. He’s not sure if she’s trying to go to sleep, or if she’s just calm enough to lay contently with him. But he doesn’t say anything, just because she finally seems comfortable.
“Are you still awake?” The girl murmurs a few minutes later.
“Yes” He answers, because he’d been laying there and staring at her the whole time.
She tugged on his hand, which was still holding onto hers, pulling it close to her chest. Shortly after she lets out a short sigh.
“I want to tell you something”
She sounds terrified, and he thinks she might be, because she still hasn’t opened her eyes, and her fingers are twitching against his.
“Okay,” He responds, as calmly and kindly as he can. “What is it?”
“You… you have to promise not to tell anyone, okay?”
“Okay” He agrees quickly, maybe too quickly, because she lets out a short breath of a laugh.
“And- um- that you won’t be weird”
“I promise” He speaks up fast again, but this time she’s not so certain.
“I mean it, Mike,” She murmurs. “You have to swear it won’t be weird”
His hand squeezes hers gently.
“Promise” He answered.
She peeked an eye open, looking at him unsurely, and he gave her the sweetest smile.
“(y/n/n), you’re my best friend- don’t tell Will- there’s nothing you could say that could change that. Really. If you killed a man, I’ll help you bury the body, alright?”
A smile blooms across her face, and she takes in a deep breath before closing her eyes again.
“Okay…” She says, and slowly exhales. “I- I really like you, Mike. Like- as more than a friend, like I have a crush on you,”
She speaks quickly, nervously, and then she’s silent for a minute.
The gears turn slowly in Mike’s head, mostly because he was shocked to hear her say such a thing.
(y/n) (y/l/n)? The sweetest, prettiest, nicest girl he’d ever met, his best friend, the girl he’d known for years, the girl he’d crushed on for years- liked him? She liked him back?
He didn’t mean to be silent for so long, he just couldn’t believe it.
(y/n’s) eyes opened slowly, nervously scanning his features, trying to figure out what he was thinking. However, when Mike was processing something, his features tended to neutralize, so she couldn’t quite figure out what he was thinking.
She bites down on her lip, to keep herself from frowning, and she starts to pull her hand away from his. Now worried that she’d bothered him, she wonders if she should run back upstairs to Nancy’s room.
“I’m sorry,” She says weakly. “It’s just- I- tonight I feel like I-I could’ve died and I just wanted you to know, you know, just in case…”
Mike blinks, and realizes that she’s starting to pull her hand out of his, and quickly secures his hold on her.
“Don’t be sorry,” He says with a shake of his head.
His eyes are wildly moving between hers, and slowly but surely, he begins to smile.
“You actually like me?” He asks, brows knitting together, as if he didn’t believe her.
She says nothing as she nods her head.
“Really?” He asks again, and this time a short laugh comes out as she nods again.
“Yes, Mike. Really” She whispers.
His small smile stretches into a wide grin, and his free hand comes up to rest on her cheek. When he begins to lean in, her face goes pink, and her eyes blow wide as they stare down at his approaching lips.
And then he stops, and his eyes meet hers.
“Um, can I kiss you?” He asks.
She giggles, and nods her head, closing her eyes just as he leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips against hers.
It’s kind of awkward, because neither of them had ever kissed anyone before, so now that their lips are touching they aren’t too sure of what to do, and so they just sit there.
(y/n) pulls away, and he’s starting to feel embarrassed because he thinks he just ruined their first kiss, but she just as quickly slides her hand behind his neck, and leans back in to catch his lips with hers.
It’s a much sweeter kiss, and he knows it’s good, because he can feel her smiling, and his heart is about to burst out of his chest.
When they part, she’s still smiling, and her eyes flutter open to see he’s already staring at her.
“I like you too” He said, making her laugh again.
“I kind of guessed…” She said playfully, but he could tell she was still feeling pretty bashful, because her cheeks were a bright pink.
“Kinda sucks you had to get attacked by a monster to fess up though,” He says, and instantly her features morphed from light and bubbly to a glare. “I didn’t mean it” He added quickly after seeing her get angry so fast.
She rolled her eyes, and shook her head at him, getting a short sigh of relief in response.
“Can we talk about it in the morning?” She mumbled, eyes falling shut as she settled back into the pillow. “I’m just really tired and-”
“Yeah, yeah,” He says, moving a little bit closer to her, before adjusting the blankets around them.
She looked up at him with a soft smile, and moved in even closer. If she rested her head forward just an inch, it would rest on his chest.
“So when you say ‘talk about it in the morning’… do you mean the monster or your undeniable love for me?” He asks her after a moment passes.
She leans her head back, and raises an eyebrow at him, as if to say, really? But he’s got a dumb smile on his face, and he wraps his arm around her waist to hold her close, so the look easily fades into a smile.
Not a word is said, as she just gazes at him and smiles, before tucking her head under his chin and finally letting herself be comfortable enough to drift off.
xoxo ~ jordie
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Finn : What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?
Arthur: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies
Micheal: Socks are Feetie Heaties
John: Forks are Stabby Grabbies
Arthur: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties
Micheal: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies
John: Stamps are Lickie Stickies
Tommy, annoyed: You are disappointments
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Hii, could I please get one with Finn please ? :) thank you ^^
summary: finn asks you if you’ll teach him how to read after much too much teasing from his brothers
word count - 961
a/n - hope this is okay!!
Finn Shelby was the sweetest angel you’d ever met. As much as he wanted to look and act tough, there wasn’t a mean bone in his body. Sure he could be silly at times, leading to a miscommunication and hurt feelings, but nothing was ever malicious with him. So it didn’t come as a surprise to you when Finn showed up at your doorstep one day with tears in his eyes asking if you could teach him how to read.
You and Finn had been friends since you could remember, the classic cliche friends to lovers really. You were the booksmart nerd who loved to read, and he was the wannabe tough guy that wanted to impress you and the two of you eventually fell in love. Even as children his aunt Polly always told you you fit into the classic role that was portrayed in so many of her books she’d been generous enough to let you read.
That meant that over the years you’d seen lots of teasing from each of the Shelby brothers aimed at the youngest, all light hearted of course, but it tended to build up and build up into insecurities that Finn then let eat away at him.
There’d been countless instances in which you had to help Finn see that they were just joking around, but his inability to read was too big of an insecurity in his eyes to let it go. Clearly his brothers had pushed him too far this time.
“Please Y/N, just the basics?” he begged, looking at you with those soft puppy eyes that always made you melt. Usually Finn would be content to listen to you read to him, head resting in your lap while your fingers raked through his short curls. But maybe now it was your chance to be on the receiving end, have Finn try to read some of the books you loved so he could finally understand why you enjoyed it so much.
“Okay, but only-” He didn’t let you finish your sentence, pressing his lips to yours with a grateful kiss, one that had the pair of you smiling against each other’s mouths until you had to pull away. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”
You spent the majority of your week hidden away at the yard with Finn, going over some sections of the papers that you thought he might enjoy, then planning on making your way up to books, considering they were more difficult. It was rather cute in your opinion, watching him hanging on to your every word with his undivided attention, seeing him getting all excited when he’d read a sentence for himself with little mistakes or corrections from you.
You currently had him reading some article about some robbery that had happened a few nights ago in London, it meant nothing to you as far as you were concerned, and Finn was too caught up in looking at all the big words to probably even register what it meant in the first place.
“W-Was that okay?” he asked shyly. You nodded your head, a grin curling on your lips as he placed the paper down in his lap. You couldn’t help leaning in to excitedly press a kiss onto his lips. “‘M so proud of you,” you gushed, watching as his cheeks tinted a light shade of pink. You loved how easily worked up the boy could get, watching him now try and stutter his way through talking to you.
It always amazed you how Finn still managed to get nervous around you when you showed any kind of affection to him, public or not, despite having been friends for who knows how long and dating for quite some time now. You were always touchy with the boy, making sure you got your daily dose of Finn hugs, but it did always boost your ego just a little bit.
“D’you wanna keep going?” you asked, searching the paper for another article that didn’t seem too difficult for your boy. You saw him nod out of the corner of your eye, but his gaze was clearly focused on something that wasn’t you.
You looked up with a small smile, prepared to ask the boy if he was okay, but you noticed John Shelby standing by the stable with that stupid toothpick in his mouth before you had the chance. He strutted over to you both with that same cocky confidence he’d always possessed, at least from what you can remember as a child before the war.
“Alright, Y/N?” You watched as he threw a wink in your direction that had a pout forming on Finn’s lips. You rolled your eyes, hand coming to blindly find Finns to squeeze it reassuringly.
John persisted with his teasing when you didn’t respond, assessing what the two of you were doing, but that paper sitting in Finn’s lap was a dead give away. “Finally learning to read, Finny?” His voice was laced with amusement, his smirk aimed at the flustered Shelby who was hanging his head. “Took you long enough.”
He was very much getting on your nerves, a sense of protectiveness over your boy growing inside of you. “Oh piss off John,” you groaned. The two Shelby boys stared at you with wide eyes, not used to this more aggressive side, especially not around the older Shelbys. “Don’t you have someone else to bother with your shit jokes.”
He opened his mouth with the intent of clapping back, but upon seeing your less than impressed gaze, he closed it again, sighing defeatedly.
He didn't say anything else as he left with a slightly damaged ego, Finn jumping to life beside you. “You’re amazing, d’you know that. Absolutely fuckin’ perfect.”
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